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smmmmm 


"Saw  him  draw  with  chalk  on  the  stones." 


H.  M.  CALDWELL  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
NEW  YORK  AND  BOSTON      J*     * 


r'- 


/  / 


A   DOG  OF   FLANDERS: 

A  STORY  OF  NOEL. 


Nello  and  Patrasche  were  left  all 
alone  in  the  world. 

They  were  friends  in  a  friendship 
closer  than  brotherhood.  Nello  was 
a  little  Ardennois ;  Patrasche  was  a 
big  Fleming.  They  were  both  of  the 
same  age  by  length  of  years,  yet  one 
was  still  young,  and  the  other  was 
already  old.  They  had  dwelt  to- 
gether almost  all  their  days :  both 
were  orphaned  and  destitute,  and 
owed  their  lives  to  the  same  hand. 
It  had  been  the  beginning  of  the  tie 
9 


IO  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

between  them,  their  first  bond  of 
sympathy;  and  it  had  strengthened 
day  by  day,  and  had  grown  with  their 
growth,  firm  and  indissoluble,  until 
they  loved  one  another  very  greatly. 
Their  home  was  a  little  hut  on  the 
edge  of  a  little  village  —  a  Flemish 
village  a  league  from  Antwerp,  set 
amidst  flat  breadths  of  pasture  and 
corn-lands,  with  long  lines  of  poplars 
and  of  alders  bending  in  the  breeze 
on  the  edge  of  the  great  canal  which 
ran  through  it.  It  had  about  a  score 
of  houses  and  homesteads,  with  shut- 
ters of  bright  green  or  sky-blue,  and 
roofs  rose-red  or  black  and  white,  and 
walls  whitewashed  until  they  shone 
in  the  sun  like  snow.  In  the  centre 
of    the    village    stood    a    windmill, 


A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS.  1 3 

placed  on  a  little  moss-grown  slope  : 
it  was  a  landmark  to  all  the  level 
country  round.  It  had  once  been 
painted  scarlet,  sails  and  all,  but 
that  had  been  in  its  infancy,  half  a 
century  or  more  earlier,  when  it  had 
ground  wheat  for  the  soldiers  of  Na- 
poleon; and  it  was  now  a  ruddy 
brown,  tanned  by  wind  and  weather. 
It  went  queerly,  by  fits  and  starts,  as 
though  rheumatic  and  stiff  in  the 
joints  from  age,  but  it  served  the 
whole  neighborhood,  which  would 
have  thought  it  almost  as  impious  to 
carry  grain  elsewhere  as  to  attend  any 
other  religious  service  than  the  mass 
that  was  performed  at  the  altar  of  the 
little  old  gray  church,  with  its  conical 
steeple,  which  stood  opposite  to  it,  and 


14  A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

whose  single  bell  rang  morning,  noon, 
and  night  with  that  strange,  subdued, 
hollow  sadness  which  every  bell  that 
hangs  in  the  Low  Countries  seems  to 
gain  as  an  integral  part  of  its  melody. 
Within  sound  of  the  little  melan- 
choly clock,  almost  from  their  birth 
upward,  they  had  dwelt  together, 
Nello  and  Patrasche,  in  the  little  hut 
on  the  edge  of  the  village,  with  the 
cathedral  spire  of  Antwerp  rising  in 
the  north-east,  beyond  the  great  green 
plain  of  seeding  grass  and  spreading 
corn  that  stretched  away  from  them 
like  a  tideless,  changeless  sea.  It 
was  the  hut  of  a  very  old  man,  of  a 
very  poor  man  —  of  old  Jehan  Daas, 
who  in  his  time  had  been  a  soldier,  and 
who  remembered  the  wars  that  had 


A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  I-J 

trampled  the  country  as  oxen  tread 
down  the  furrows,  and  who  had 
brought  from  his  service  nothing  ex- 
cept a  wound,  which  had  made  him 
a  cripple. 

When  old  Jehan  Daas  had  reached 
his  full  eighty,  his  daughter  had  died 
in  the  Ardennes,  hard  by  Stavelot, 
and  had  left  him  in  legacy  her  two- 
year  old  son.  The  old  man  could  ill 
contrive  to  support  himself,  but  he 
took  up  the  additional  burden  uncom- 
plainingly, and  it  soon  became  wel~ 
come  and  precious  to  him.  Little 
Nello  — which  was  but  a  pet  diminu- 
tive for  Nicolas  —  throve  with  himy 
and  the  old  man  and  the  little  child 
lived  in  the  poor  little  hut  contentedly. 

It  was  a  very  humble  little  mud* 


16  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

hut  indeed,  but  it  was  clean  and  white 
as  a  sea-shell,  and  stood  in  a  small 
plot  of  garden-ground  that  yielded 
beans  and  herbs  and  pumpkins. 
They  were  very  poor,  terribly  poor  — 
many  a  day  they  had  nothing  at  all  to 
eat.  They  never  by  any  chance  had 
enough :  to  have  had  enough  to  eat 
would  have  been  to  have  reached  para- 
dise at  once.  But  the  old  man  was 
very  gentle  and  good  to  the  boy,  and 
the  boy  was  a  beautiful,  innocent, 
truthful,  tender-natured  creature ;  and 
they  were  happy  on  a  crust  and  a  few 
leaves  of  cabbage,  and  asked  no  more 
of  earth  or  heaven  ;  save  indeed  that 
Patrasche  should  be  always  with 
them,  since  without  Patrasche,  where 
would  they  have  been  ? 


Nello's  Home. 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  1 9 

For  Patrasche  was  their  alpha  and 
©mega  ;  their  treasury  and  granary  ; 
their  store  of  gold  and  wand  of  wealth  ; 
their  bread-winner  and  minister ;  their 
only  friend  and  comforter.  Patrasche 
dead  or  gone  from  them,  they  must 
have  laid  themselves  down  and  died 
likewise.  Patrasche  was  body,  brains, 
hands,  head,  and  feet  to  both  of  them : 
Patrasche  was  their  very  life,  their 
very  soul.  For  Jehan  Daas  was  old 
and  a  cripple,  and  Nello  was  but  a 
child  ;  and  Patrasche  was  their  dog. 

A  dog  of  Flanders — yellow  of  hide, 
large  of  head  and  limb,  with  wolf-like 
ears  that  stood  erect,  and  legs  bowed 
and  feet  widened  in  the  muscular  de- 
velopment wrought  in  his  breed  by 
many   generations  of    hard  service. 


20  A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS. 

Patrasche  came  of  a  race  which  had 
toiled  hard  and  cruelly  from  sire  to 
son  in  Flanders  many  a  century  — 
slaves  of  slaves,  dogs  of  the  people,, 
beasts  of  the  shafts  and  the  harness, 
creatures  that  lived  straining  their 
sinews  in  the  gall  of  the  cart,  and 
died  breaking  their  hearts  on  the 
flints  of  the  streets. 

Patrasche  had  been  born  of  parents 
who  had  labored  hard  all  their  days 
over  the  sharp-set  stones  of  the  va- 
rious cities  and  the  long,  shadowless, 
weary  roads  of  the  two  Flanders 
and  of  Brabant.  He  had  been  born 
to  no  other  heritage  than  those  of 
pain  and  of  toil.  He  had  been  fed  on 
curses  and  baptized  with  blows.  Why 
not  ?  It  was  a  Christian  country,  and 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  2t 

Patrasche  was  but  a  dog,  Before  he 
was  fully  grown  he  had  known  the 
bitter  gall  of  the  cart  and  the  collar, 
Before  he  had  entered  his  thirteenth 
month  he  had  become  the  property  of 
a  hardware  dealer,  who  was  accus- 
tomed to  wander  over  the  land  north 
and  south,  from  the  blue  sea  to  the- 
green  mountains.  They  sold  him 
for  a  small  price  because  he  was  so 
young. 

This  man  was  a  drunkard  and  a 
brute.  The  life  of  Patrasche  was  a  life 
of  hell.  To  deal  the  tortures  of  hell  on 
the  animal  creation  is  a  way  which 
the  Christians  have  of  showing  their 
belief  in  it.  His  purchaser  was  a 
sullen,  ill-living,  brutal  Brabantois, 
who  heaped  his  cart  full  with  pots 


22  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

and  pans  and  flagons  and  buckets  and 
other  wares  of  crockery  and  brass  and 
tin,  and  left  Patrasche  to  draw  the 
load  as  best  he  might,  whilst  he  him- 
self lounged  idly  by  the  side  in  fat 
and  sluggish  ease,  smoking  his  black 
pipe  and  stopping  at  every  wine-shop 
or  cafe  on  the  road. 

Happily  for  Patrasche — or  unhap- 
pily—  he  was  very  strong:  he  came 
of  an  iron  race,  long  born  and  bred 
to  such  cruel  travail,  so  that  he  did 
not  die,  but  managed  to  drag  on  a 
wretched  existence  under  the  brutal 
burdens,  the  scarifying  lashes,  the 
hunger,  the  thirst,  the  blows,  the 
curses,  and  the  exhaustion  which 
are  the  only  wages  with  which  the 
Flemings    repay    the    most    patient 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDER&  2$ 

and  laborious  of  all  their  four-footed 
victims.  One  day,  after  two  years 
of  this  long  and  deadly  agony, 
Patrasche  was  going  on  as  usual 
along  one  of  the  straight,  dusty,  un- 
lovely roads  that  lead  to  the  city 
of  Rubens.  It  was  full  midsummer, 
and  very  warm.  His  cart  was  very 
heavy,  piled  high  with  goods  in  metal 
and  in  earthenware.  His  owner  saun- 
tered on  without  noticing  him  other- 
wise than  by  the  crack  of  the  whip 
as  it  curled  round  his  quivering 
loins.  The  Brabantois  had  paused  to 
drink  beer  himself  at  every  wayside 
house,  but  he  had  forbidden  Patrasche 
to  stop  a  moment  for  a  draught  from  the 
canal.  Going  along  thus,  in  the  full 
sun,  on  a  scorching  highway,  having 


^24  A   D0G   0F  FLANDERS. 

eaten  nothing  for  twenty-four  hours, 
and,  which  was  far  worse  to  him, 
not  having  tasted  water  for  nearly 
twelve,  being  blind  with  dust,  sore 
with  blows,  and  stupefied  with  the 
merciless  'weight  which  dragged 
upon  his  loins,  Patrasche,  for  once, 
staggered  and  foamed  a  little  at  the 
mouth,  and  fell. 

He  fell  in  the  middle  of  the  white, 
dusty  road,  in  the  full  glare  of  the 
sun :  he  was  sick  unto  death,  and 
motionless.  His  master  gave  him 
the  only  medicine  in  his  pharmacy, — 
kicks  and  oaths  and  blows  with  a 
cudgel  of  oak,  which  had  been  often 
the  only  food  and  drink,  the  only 
wage  and  reward,  ever  offered  to  him. 
.But  Patrasche  was  beyond  the  reach 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  2% 

of  any  torture,  or  of  any  curses.  Pa- 
trasche  lay,  dead  to  all  appearances, 
down  in  the  white  powder  of  the 
summer  dust.  After  a  while,  finding 
it  useless  to  assail  his  ribs  with  pun- 
ishment and  his  ears  with  maledic- 
tions, the  Brabantois  —  deeming  life 
gone  in  him,  or  going  so  nearly  that 
his  carcass  was  forever  useless,  unless 
indeed  some  one  should  strip  it  of  the 
skin  for  gloves  — cursed  him  fiercely 
in  farewell,  struck  off  the  leathern 
bands  of  the  harness,  kicked  his 
body  heavily  aside  into  the  tgrass, 
and,  groaning  and  muttering  in  sav- 
age wrath,  pushed  the  cart  lazily 
along  the  road  up  hill,  and  left  the 
dying  dog  there  for  the  ants  to 
sting  and  for  the  crows  to  pick. 


26  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

It  was  the  last  day  before  Kermesse, 
away  at  Louvain,  and  the  Brabantois 
was  in  haste  to  reach  the  fair  and  get 
a  good  place  for  his  truck  of  brass 
wares.  He  was  in  fierce  wrath,  be- 
cause Patrasche  had  been  a  strong 
and  much-enduring  animal,  and  be- 
cause he  himself  had  now  the  hard 
task  of  pushing  his  charette  all  the 
way  to  Louvain.  But  to  stay  to 
look  after  Patrasche  never  entered  his 
thoughts  :  the  beast  was  dying  and 
useless,  and  he  would  steal,  to  replace 
him,  the  first  large  dog  that  he  found 
wandering  alone  out  of  sight  of  its 
master.  Patrasche  had  cost  him 
nothing,  or  next  to  nothing  ;  and  for 
two  long,  cruel  years  he  had  made  him 
toil  ceaselessly  in  his  service  from 


A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS.  2/ 

sunrise  to  sunset,  through  summer 
and  winter,  in  fair  weather  and  foul. 

He  had  got  a  fair  use  and  a  good 
profit  out  of  Patrasche ;  being  human, 
he  was  wise,  and  left  the  dog  to  draw 
his  last  breath  alone  in  the  ditch,  and 
have  his  bloodshot  eyes  plucked  out  as 
they  might  be  by  the  birds,  whilst  he 
himself  went  on  his  way  to  beg  and  to 
steal,  to  eat  and  to  drink,  to  dance 
and  to  sing,  in  the  mirth  at  Louvain. 
A  dying  dog,  a  dog  of  the  cart  — 
why  should  he  waste  hours  over  its 
agonies  at  peril  of  losing  a  handful  of 
copper  coins,  at  peril  of  a  shout  of 
laughter  ? 

Patrasche  lay  there,  flung  in  the 
grass-green  ditch.  It  was  a  busy 
road  that  day,  and  hundreds  of  people,, 


28  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

on  foot  and  on  mules,  in  wagons  or 
in  carts,  went  by,  tramping  quickly 
and  joyously  on  to  Louvain.  Some 
saw  him  ;  most  did  not  even  look :  all 
passed  on.  A  dead  dog  more  or 
less  —  it  was  nothing  in  Brabant:  it 
would  be  nothing  anywhere  in  the 
world. 

After  a  time,  amongst  the  holi- 
day-makers, there  came  a  little  old 
man  who  was  bent  and  lame  and  very 
feeble.  He  was  in  no  guise  for  feast- 
ing :  he  was  very  poorly  and  miserably 
clad,  and  he  dragged  his  silent  way 
slowly  through  the  dust  amongst  the 
pleasure-seekers.  He  looked  at  Pa- 
trasche,  paused,  wondered,  turned 
aside,  then  kneeled  down  in  the  rank 
grass  and  weeds  of    the  ditch,  and 


A   BOG   OF  FLANDERS.  3 1 

surveyed  the  dog  with  kindly  eyes  of 
pity.  There  was  with  him  a  little 
rosy,  fair-haired,  dark-eyed  child  of  a 
few  years  old,  who  pattered  in  amidst 
the  bushes  that  were  for  him  breast- 
high,  and  stood  gazing  with  a  pretty 
seriousness  upon  the  poor  great,  quiet 
beast. 

Thus  it  was  that  these  two  first 
met,  ^—  the  little  Nello  and  the  big 
Patrasche. 

The  upshot  of  that  day  was,  that 
old  Jehan  Daas,  with  much  laborious 
effort,  drew  the  sufferer  homeward  to 
his  own  little  hut,  which  was  a  stone's 
throw  off  amidst  the  fields,  and  there 
tended  him  with  so  much  care  that 
the  sickness,  which  had  been  a  brain* 
seizure,  brought  on  by  heat  and  thirst 


32  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS- 

and  exhaustion,  with  time  and  shade 
and  rest  passed  away,  and  health 
and  strength  returned,  and  Patrasche 
staggered  up  again  upon  his  four  stout, 
tawny  legs. 

Now  for  many  weeks  he  had  been 
useless,  powerless,  sore,  near  to  death  ; 
but  all  this  time  he  had  heard  no 
rough  word,  had  felt  no  harsh  touch, 
but  only  the  pitying  murmurs  of  the 
little  child's  voice  and  the  soothing 
caress  of  the  old  man's  hand. 

In  his  sickness  they  too  had  grown 
to  care  for  him,  this  lonely  old  man 
and  the  little  happy  child.  He  had 
a  corner  of  the  hut,  with  a  heap  of 
dry  grass  for  kis  bed  ;  and  they  had 
learned  to  listen  eagerly  for  his 
breathing  in  the  dark  night,  to  tell 


A  DOG   OP  FLANDERS.  33 

them  that  he  lived  ;  and  when  he  first 
was  well  enough  to  essay  a  loud,  hol- 
low, broken  bay,  they  laughed  aloud, 
and  almost  wept  together  for  joy  at 
such  a  sign  of  his  sure  restoration  ; 
and  little  Nello,  in  delighted  glee, 
hung  round  his  rugged  neck  with 
chains  of  marguerites,  and  kissed  him 
with  fresh  and  ruddy  lips. 

So,  then,  when  Patrasche  arose 
himself  again,  strong,  big,  gaunt,  pow- 
erful, his  great  wistful  eyes  had  a 
gentle  astonishment  in  them  that 
there  were  no  curses  to  rouse  him, 
and  no  blows  to  drive  him ;  and  his 
heart  awakened  to  a  mighty  love, 
which  never  wavered  once  in  its 
fidelity  whilst  life  abode  with  him. 

But   Patrasche,  being   a  dog,    was 


34  A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

grateful.  Patrasche  lay  pondering 
long  with  grave,  tender,  musing  brown 
eyes,  watching  the  movements  of  his 
friends. 

Now,  the  old  soldier,  Jehan  Daas, 
could  do  nothing  for  his  living  but 
limp  about  a  little  with  a  small  cart, 
with  which  he  carried  daily  the  milk- 
cans  of  those  happier  neighbors  who 
owned  cattle  away  into  the  town  of 
Antwerp.  The  villagers  gave  him 
the  employment  a  little  out  of  charity 
— more  because  it  suited  them  well 
to  send  their  milk  into  the  town  by  so 
honest  a  carrier,  and  bide  at  home 
themselves  to  look  after  their  gar- 
dens, their  cows,  their  poultry,  or  their 
little  fields.  But  it  was  becoming 
hard  work  for  the  old  man.     He  was 


A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS.  3/ 

eighty-three,  and  Antwerp  was  a  good- 
league  off,  or  more. 

Patrasche  watched  the  milk-cans 
come  and  go  that  one  day  when  he 
had  got  well  and  was  lying  in  the  sun 
with  the  wreath  of  marguerites  round 
his  tawny  neck. 

The  next  morning  Patrasche,  be- 
fore the  old  man  had  touched  the  cart,, 
arose  and  walked  to  it,  and  placed  him- 
self betwixt  its  handles,  and  testified, 
as  plainly  as  dumb  show  could  do  his 
desire  and  his  ability  to  work  in  return 
for  the  bread  of  charity  that  he  had 
eaten. 

Jehan  Daas  resisted  long,  for  the 
old  man  was  one  of  those  who  thought 
it  a  foul  shame  to  bind  dogs  to  labor 
for  which  nature  never  formed  them. 


38  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

But  Patrasche  would  not  be  gainsaid  : 
finding  they  did  not  harness  him,  he 
tried  to  draw  the  cart  onward  with 
his  teeth. 

At  length  Jehan  Daas  gave  way, 
vanquished  by  the  persistence  and 
the  gratitude  of  this  creature  whom 
he  had  succored.  He  fashioned  his 
cart  so  that  Patrasche  could  run  in  it, 
and  this  he  did  every  morning  of  his 
life  thenceforward. 

When  the  winter  came  Jehan  Daas 
thanked  the  blessed  fortune  that  had 
brought  him  to  the  dying  dog  in  the 
ditch  that  fair-day  of  Louvain  ;  for  he 
was  very  old,  and  he  grew  feebler 
with  each  year,  and  he  would  ill  have 
known  how  to  pull  his  load  of  milk- 
cans  over  the  snows  and  through  the 


Nello  sells  Milk. 


A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  39 

deep  ruts  in  the  mud  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  strength  and  the  indus- 
try of  the  animal  he  had  befriended. 
As  for  Patrasche,  it  seemed  heaven, 
to  him.  After  the  frightful  burdens 
that  his  old  master  had  compelled  him 
to  strain  under,  at  the  call  of  the 
whip  at  every  step,  it  seemed  nothing 
to  him  but  amusement  to  step  out 
with  this  little  light  green  cart,  with 
its  bright  brass  cans,  by  the  side  of 
the  gentle  old  man  who  always  paid 
him  with  a  tender  caress  and  with  a 
kindly  word.  Besides,  his  work  was 
over  by  three  or  four  in  the  day,  and 
after  that  time  he  was  free  to  do  as  he 
would,  —  to  stretch  himself,  to  sleep 
in  the  sun,  to  wander  in  the  fields,  to 
romp  with  the  young  child,  or  to  play 


40  A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

with  his  fellow-dogs.  Patrasche  was 
very  happy. 

Fortunately  for  his  peace,  his  for- 
mer owner  was  killed  in  a  drunken 
brawl  at  the  kermesse  of  Mechlin, 
and  so  sought  not  after  him  nor  dis- 
turbed him  in  his  new  and  well-loved 
home. 

A  few  years  later  old  Jehan  Daas, 
who  had  always  been  a  cripple,  be- 
came so  paralyzed  with  rheumatism 
that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  go 
out  with  the  cart  any  more.  Then 
little  Nello,  being  now  grown  to  his 
sixth  year  of  age,  and  knowing  the 
town  well  from  having  accompanied 
his  grandfather  so  many  times,  took 
his  place  beside  the  cart,  and  sold 
the  milk  and  received  the  coins  in 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  43 

exchange,  and  brought  them  back  to 
their  respective  owners  with  a  pretty 
grace  and  seriousness  which  charmed 
all  who  beheld  him. 

The  little  Ardennois  was  a  beau- 
tiful child,  with  dark,  grave,  tender 
eyes,  and  a  lovely  bloom  upon  his 
face,  and  fair  locks  that  clustered 
to  his  throat  ;  and  many  an  artist 
sketched  the  group  as  it  went  by  him 
—  the  green  cart  with  the  brass  flag- 
ons of  Teniers  and  Mieris  and  Van 
Tal,  and  the  great  tawny-colored, 
massive  dog,  with  his  belled  harness 
that  chimed  cheerily  as  he  went,  and 
the  small  figure  that  ran  beside  him, 
which  had  little  white  feet  in  great 
wooden  shoes,  and  a  soft,  grave,  in- 
nocent, happy  face  like  the  little  fair 
children  of  Rubens. 


44  A.   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

Nello  and  Patrasche  did  the  work 
so  well  and  so  joyfully  together,  that 
Jehan  Daas  himself,  when  the  sum- 
mer came  and  he  was  better  again, 
had  no  need  to  stir  out,  but  could  sit 
in  the  doorway  in  the  sun  and  see 
them  go  forth  through  the  garden 
wicket,  and  then  doze  and  dream  and 
pray  a  little,  and  then  awake  again  as 
the  clock  tolled  three,  and  watch  for 
their  return.  And  on  their  return 
Patrasche  would  shake  himself  free 
of  his  harness  with  a  bay  of  glee,  and 
Nello  would  recount  with  pride  the 
doings  of  the  day ;  and  they  would 
all  go  in  together  to  their  meal  of  rye- 
bread  and  milk  or  soup,  and  would  see 
the  shadows  lengthen  over  the  great 
plain,  and  see  the  twilight  veil  the  fair 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  45 

cathedral  spire  ;  and  then  lie  down 
together  to  sleep  peacefully  while  the 
old  man  said  a  prayer. 

So  the  days  and  the  years  went  on, 
and  the  lives  of  Nello  and  Patrasche 
were  happy,  innocent,  and  healthful. 

In  the  spring  and  summer  especially 
were  they  glad.  Flanders  is  not  a 
lovely  land,  and  around  the  burgh  of 
Rubens  it  is  perhaps  least  lovely  of 
all.  Corn  and  colza,  pasture  and 
plough,  succeed  each  other  on  the 
characterless  plain  in  wearying  repe- 
tition, and  save  by  some  gaunt  gray 
tower,  with  its  peal  of  pathetic  bells, 
or  some  figure  coming  athwart  the 
fields,  made  picturesque  by  a  gleaner's 
bundle  or  a  woodman's  fagot,  there  is 
no  change,  no  variety,  no  beauty,  any- 


.46  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

where  ;  and  he  who  has  dwelt  upon 
the  mountains  or  amidst  the  forests 
feels  oppressed  as  by  imprisonment 
with  the  tedium  and  the  endlessness 
of  that  vast  and  dreary  level.  But  it 
is  green  and  very  fertile,  and  it  has 
wide  horizons  that  have  a  certain 
charm  of  their  own  in  their  dulness 
and  monotony ;  and  amongst  the 
rushes  by  the  water-side  the  flowers 
grow,  and  the  trees  rise  tall  and  fresh 
where  the  barges  glide  with  their 
great  hulks  black  against  the  sun,  and 
their  little  green  barrels  and  vari-col- 
ored  flags  gay  against  the  leaves. 
Anyway,  there  is  greenery  and 
breadth  of  space  enough  to  be  as  good 
as  beauty  to  a  child  and  a  dog ;  and 
these  two  asked  no  better,  when  their 


A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS.  49 

work  was  done,  than  to  lie  buried  in 
the  lush  grasses  on  the  side  of  the 
canal,  and  watch  the  cumbrous  ves- 
sels drifting  by  and  bringing  the 
crisp  salt  smell  of  the  sea  amongst 
the  blossoming  scents  of  the  coun- 
try summer. 

True,  in  the  winter  it  was  harder, 
and  they  had  to  rise  in  the  darkness 
and  the  bitter  cold,  and  they  had  sel- 
dom as  much  as  they  could  have  eaten 
any  day,  and  the  hut  was  scarce  bet- 
ter than  a  shed  when  the  nights  were 
cold,  although  it  looked  so  pretty  in 
warm  weather,  buried  in  a  great 
kindly  clambering  vine,  that  never 
bore  fruit,  indeed,  but  which  covered 
it  with  luxuriant  green  tracery  all 
through  the  months  of  blossom  and 


50  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

harvest.  In  winter  the  winds  found 
many  holes  in  the  walls  of  the  poor 
little  hut,  and  the  vine  was  black  and 
leafless,  and  the  bare  lands  looked 
very  bleak  and  drear  without,  and 
sometimes  within  the  floor  was 
flooded  and  then  frozen.  In  winter 
it  was  hard,  and  the  snow  numbed 
the  little  white  limbs  of  Nello,  and 
the  icicles  cut  the  brave,  untiring- 
feet  of  Patrasche. 

But  even  then  they  were  never 
heard  to  lament,  either  of  them.  The 
child's  wooden  shoes  and  the  dog's 
four  legs  would  trot  manfully  together 
over  the  frozen  fields  to  the  chime  of 
the  bells  on  the  harness ;  and  then 
sometimes,  in  the  streets  of  Antwerp, 
some  housewife  would  bring  them  a 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  5 1 

bowl  of  soup  and  a  handful  of  bread, 
or  some  kindly  trader  would  throw 
some  billets  of  fuel  into  the  little 
cart  as  it  went  homeward,  or  some 
woman  in  their  own  village  would  bid 
them  keep  some  share  of  the  milk 
they  carried  for  their  own  food  ;  and 
then  they  would  run  over  the  white 
lands,  through  the  early  darkness, 
bright  and  happy,  and  burst  with  a 
shout  of  joy  into  their  home. 

So,  on  the  whole,  it  was  well  with 
them,  very  well ;  and  Patrasche,  meet- 
ing on  the  highway  or  in  the  public 
streets  the  many  dogs  who  toiled 
from  daybreak  into  night-fall,  paid 
only  with  blows  and  curses,  and 
loosened  from  the  shafts  with  a  kick 
to  starve   and  freeze   as    best    they 


52  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

might,  —  Patrasche  in  his  heart  was 
very  grateful  to  his  fate,  and  thought  it 
the  fairest  and  the  kindliest  the  world 
could  hold.  Though  he  was  often 
very  hungry  indeed  when  he  lay  down 
at  night ;  though  he  had  to  work  in 
the  heats  of  summer  noons  and 
the  rasping  chills  of  winter  dawns  ; 
though  his  feet  were  often  tender 
with  wounds  from  the  sharp  edges  of 
the  jagged  pavement ;  though  he  had 
to  perform  tasks  beyond  his  strength 
and  against  his  nature,  —  yet  he  was 
grateful  and  content  :  he  did  his  duty 
with  each  day,  and  the  eyes  that  he 
loved  smiled  down  on  him.  It  was 
sufficient  for  Patrasche. 

There  was  only  one  thing  which 
caused  Patrasche  any  uneasiness  in 


A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  55 

his  life,  and  it  was  this.  Antwerp, 
as  all  the  world  knows,  is  full  at 
every  turn  of  old  piles  of  stones,  dark 
and  ancient  and  majestic,  standing 
in  crooked  courts,  jammed  against 
gate-ways  and  taverns,  rising  by  the 
water's  edge,  with  bells  ringing  above 
them  in  the  air,  and  ever  and  again 
out  of  their  arched  doors  a  swell 
of  music  pealing.  There  they  re- 
main, the  grand  old  sanctuaries  of  the 
past,  shut  in  amidst  the  squalor,  the 
hurry,  the  crowds,  the  unloveliness, 
and  the  commerce  of  the  modern 
world,  and  all  day  long  the  clouds 
drift  and  the  birds  circle  and  the 
winds  sigh  around  them,  and  beneath 
the  earth  at  their  feet  there  sleeps  — 
Rubens. 


56  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

And  the  greatness  of  the  mighty 
Master  still  rests  upon  Antwerp,  and 
wherever  we  turn  in  its  narrow  streets 
his  glory  lies  therein,  so  that  all  mean 
things  are  thereby  transfigured  ;  and 
as  we  pace  slowly  through  the  wind- 
ing ways,  and  by  the  edge  of  the 
stagnant  water,  and  through  the 
noisome  courts,  his  spirit  abides  with 
us,  and  the  heroic  beauty  of  his  vis- 
ions is  about  us,  and  the  stones  that 
once  felt  his  footsteps  and  bore  his 
shadow  seem  to  arise  and  speak  of 
him  with  living  voices.  For  the  city 
which  is  the  tomb  of  Rubens  still 
lives  to  us  through  him,  and  him 
alone. 

It  is  so  quiet  there  by  that  great 
white  sepulchre  —  so  quiet,  save  only 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  57 

when  the  organ  peals  and  the  choir 
cries  aloud  Salve  Regina  or  the  Kyrie 
Eleison.  Sure  no  artist  ever  had  a 
greater  gravestone  than  that  pure 
marble  sanctuary  gives  to  him  in  the 
heart  of  his  birthplace  in  the  chancel 
of  St.  Jacques. 

Without  Rubens,  what  were  Ant- 
werp ?  A  dirty,  dusky,  bustling  mart 
which  no  man  would  ever  care  to 
look  upon  save  the  traders  who  do 
business  on  its  wharves.  With  Ru- 
bens, to  the  whole  world  of  men  it 
is  a  sacred  name,  a  sacred  soil,  a 
Bethlehem  where  a  god  of  Art  saw 
light,  a  Golgotha  where  a  god  of  Art 
lies  dead. 

O  nations!  closely  should  you 
treasure  your  great  men,  for  by  them 


58  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

alone  will  the  future  know  of  you. 
Flanders  in  her  generations  has  been 
wise.  In  his  life  she  glorified  this 
greatest  of  her  sons,  and  in  his  death 
she  magnifies  his  name.  But  her 
wisdom  is  very  rare. 

Now  the  trouble  of  Patrasche  was 
this.  Into  these  great,  sad  piles  of 
stones,  that  reared  their  melancholy 
majesty  above  the  crowded  roofs,  the 
child  Nello  would  many  and  many 
a  time  enter,  and  disappear  through 
their  dark,  arched  portals,  whilst  Pa- 
trasche, left  without  upon  the  pave- 
ment, would  wearily  and  vainly  pon- 
der on  what  could  be  the  charm 
which  thus  allured  from  him  his 
inseparable  and  beloved  companion. 
Once   or  twice  he  did  essay   to  see 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  6t 

for  himself,  clattering  up  the  steps 
with  his  milk-cart  behind  him  ; 
but  thereon  he  had  been  always 
sent  back  again  summarily  by  a  tall 
custodian  in  black  clothes  and  silver 
chains  of  office  ;  and  fearful  of  bring- 
ing his  little  master  into  trouble,  he 
desisted,  and  remained  couched  pa- 
tiently before  the  churches  until  such 
time  as  the  boy  reappeared  It  was 
not  the  fact  of  his  going  into  them 
which  disturbed  Patrasche  :  he  knew 
that  people  went  to  church  :  all  the 
village  went  to  the  small,  tumble- 
down, gray  pile  opposite  the  red  wind- 
mill. What  troubled  him  was  that 
little  Nello  always  looked  strangely 
when  he  came  out,  always  very  flushed 
or  very   pale;    and  whenever  he  re* 


62  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

turned  home  after  such  visitations, 
would  sit  silent  and  dreaming,  not 
caring  to  play,  but  gazing  out  at  the 
evening  skies  beyond  the  line  of 
the  canal,  very  subdued,  and  almost 
sad. 

What  was  it  ?  wondered  Patrasche. 
He  thought  it  could  not  be  good  or 
natural  for  the  little  lad  to  be  so 
grave,  and  in  his  dumb  fashion  he 
tried  all  he  could  to  keep  Nello  by 
him  in  the  sunny  fields  or  in  the  busy 
market-place.  But  to  the  churches 
Nello  would  go  :  most  often  of  all 
would  he  go  to  the  great  cathedral ; 
and  Patrasche,  left  without  on  the 
stones  by  the  iron  fragments  of 
Quentin  Matsys'  gate,  would  stretch 
himself  and  yawn  and  sigh,  and  even 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  6 


howl  now  and  then,  all  in  vain,  until 
the  doors  closed,  and  the  child  per- 
force came  forth  again,  and  winding 
his  arms  about  the  dog's  neck  would 
kiss  him  on  his  broad,  tawny-colored 
forehead,  and  murmur  always  the 
same  words,  "If  I  could  only  see 
them,  Patrasche  !  —  if  I  could  only 
see  them  !" 

What  were  they  ?  pondered  Pa- 
trasche, looking  up  with  large,  wist- 
ful, sympathetic  eyes. 

One  day,  when  the  custodian  was 
out  of  the  way  and  the  doors  left  ajar, 
he  got  in  for  a  moment  after  his  lit- 
tle friend,  and  saw.  "They"  were 
two  great  covered  pictures  on  either 
side  of  the  choir. 

Nello  was  kneeling,  rapt  as  in  an 


64  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

ecstasy,  before  the  altar-picture  of  the 
Assumption,  and  when  he  noticed  Pa- 
trasche,  and  rose  and  drew  the  dog 
gently  out  into  the  air,  his  face  was 
wet  with  tears,  and  he  looked  up  at 
the  veiled  places  as  he  passed  them, 
and  murmured  to  his  companion,  "It 
is  so  terrible  not  to  see  them,  Pa- 
trasche,  just  because  one  is  poor  and 
cannot  pay !  He  never  meant  that 
the  poor  should  not  see  them  when 
he  painted  them,  I  am  sure.  He 
would  have  had  us  see  them  any 
day,  every  day :  that  I  am  sure. 
And  they  keep  them  shrouded 
there  —  shrouded  in  the  dark,  the 
beautiful  things  !  —  and  they  never 
feel  the  light,  and  no  eyes  look 
on      them,      unless       rich      people 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  6/ 

come  and  pay.  If  I  could  only- 
see  them,  I  would  be  content  to 
die." 

But  he  could  not  see  them,  and 
Patrasche  could  not  help  him,  for  to 
gain  the  silver  piece  that  the  church 
exacts  as  the  price  for  looking  on  the 
glories  of  the  Elevation  of  the  Cross 
and  the  Descent  from  the  Cross  was  a 
thing  as  utterly  beyond  the  powers 
of  either  of  them  as  it  would  have 
been  to  scale  the  heights  of  the 
cathedral  spire.  They  had  never  so 
much  as  a  sou  to  spare  :  if  they 
cleared  enough  to  get  a  little  wood 
for  the  stove,  a  little  broth  for  the 
pot,  it  was  the  utmost  they  could  do. 
And  yet  the  heart  of  the  child  was 
set  in  sore  and  endless  longing  upon 


68  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

beholding  the  greatness  of  the  two 
veiled  Rubens. 

The  whole  soul  of  the  little  Arden- 
nois  thrilled  and  stirred  with  an 
absorbing  passion  for  Art.  Going 
on  his  ways  through  the  old  city  in 
the  early  days  before  the  sun  or  the 
people  had  risen,  Nello,  who  looked 
only  a  little  peasant-boy,  with  a  great 
dog  drawing  milk  to  sell  from  door  to 
door,  was  in  a  heaven  of  dreams 
whereof  Rubens  was  the  god.  Nello, 
cold  and  hungry,  with  stockingless 
feet,  in  wooden  shoes,  and  the  winter 
winds  blowing  amongst  his  curls  and 
lifting  his  poor,  thin  garments,  was  in 
a  rapture  of  meditation,  wherein  all 
that  he  saw  was  the  beautiful,  fair 
face  of  the  Mary  of  the  Assumption, 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  fl 

with  the  waves  of  golden  hair 
lying  upon  her  shoulders,  and  the 
light  of  an  eternal  sun  shining  down 
upon  her  brow.  Nello,  reared  in  pov- 
erty, and  buffeted  by  fortune,  and 
untaught  in  letters,  and  unheeded  by 
men,  had  the  compensation  or  the 
curse  which  is  called  Genius. 

No  one  knew  it.  He  as  little  as 
any.  No  one  knew  it.  Only  indeed 
Patrasche,  who,  being  with  him  al- 
ways, saw  him  draw  with  chalk 
upon  the  stones  any  and  every  thing 
that  grew  or  breathed ;  heard  him  on 
his  little  bed  of  hay  murmur  all  man- 
ner of  timid,  pathetic  prayers  to  the 
spirit  of  the  great  Master ;  watched 
his  gaze  darken  and  his  face  radiate 
at  the  evening  glow  of  sunset,  or  the 


*]2  A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

Tosy  rising  of  the  dawn  ;  and  felt 
many  and  many  a  time  the  tears  of 
a  strange,  nameless  pain  and  joy, 
mingled  together,  fall  hotly  from  the 
bright  young  eyes  upon  his  own 
wrinkled,  yellow  forehead. 

"  I  should  go  to  my  grave  quite 
content  if  I  thought,  Nello,  that 
when  thou  growest  a  man  thou 
couldst  own  this  hut  and  the  little 
plot  of  ground,  and  labor  for  thyself, 
and  be  called  Baas  by  thy  neighbors," 
said  the  old  man  Jehan  many  an  hour 
from  his  bed.  For  to  own  a  bit  of 
soil,  and  to  be  called  Baas — master 
—  by  the  hamlet  round,  is  to  have 
achieved  the  highest  ideal  of  a  Flem- 
ish peasant ;  and  the  old  soldier,  who 
Jiad  wandered  over  all  the  earth  in 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  73 

his  youth,  and  had  brought  nothing 
back,  deemed  in  his  old  age  that  to 
live  and  die  on  one  spot  in  contented 
humility  was  the  fairest  fate  he  could 
desire  for  his  darling.  But  Nello 
said  nothing. 

The  same  leaven  was  working  in 
him  that  in  other  times  begat  Ru- 
bens and  Jordaens  and  the  Van  Eycks, 
and  all  their  wondrous  tribe,  and  in 
times  more  recent  begat  in  the 
green  country  of  the  Ardennes, 
where  the  Meuse  washes  the  old 
walls  of  Dijon,  the  great  artist  of 
the  Patroclus,  whose  genius  is  too 
near  us  for  us  aright  to  measure 
its  divinity. 

Nello  dreamed  of  other  things  in 
the   future  than  of  tilling  the  little 


74  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

rood  of  earth,  and  living  under  the 
wattle  roof,  and  being  called  Baas  by 
neighbors  a  little  poorer  or  a  little 
less  poor  than  himself.  The  cathe- 
dral spire,  where  it  rose  beyond  the 
fields  in  the  ruddy  evening  skies,  or 
in  the  dim,  gray,  misty  mornings, 
said  other  things  to  him  than  this. 
But  these  he  told  only  to  Patrasche, 
whispering,  childlike,  his  fancies  in 
the  dog's  ear  when  they  went  to- 
gether at  their  work  through  the 
fogs  of  the  daybreak,  or  lay  together 
at  their  rest  amongst  the  rustling 
rushes  by  the  water's  side. 

For  such  dreams  are  not  easily 
shaped  into  speech  to  awake  the 
slow  sympathies  of  human  auditors  ; 
and   they   would    only    have   sorely 


A    DOG    OF  FLANDERS.  J$ 

perplexed  and  troubled  the  poor  old 
man,  bedridden  'in  his  corner,  who, 
for  his  part,  whenever  he  had  trod- 
den the  streets  of  Antwerp,  had 
thought  the  daub  of  blue  and  red 
that  they  called  a  Madonna,  on  the 
walls  of  the  wine-shop  where  he 
drank  his  sou's  worth  of  black  beer, 
quite  as  good  as  any  of  the  famous 
altar-pieces  for  which  the  stranger 
folk  travelled  far  and  wide  into  Flan- 
ders from  every  land  on  which  the 
good  sun  shone. 

There  was  only  one  other  beside 
Patrasche  to  whom  Nello  could  talk 
at  all  of  his  daring  fantasies.  This 
other  was  little  Alois,  who  lived  at 
the  old  red  mill  on  the  grassy  mound, 
and  whose  father,  the  miller,  was  the 


J6  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

best-to-do  husbandman  in  all  the  vil- 
lage. Little  Alois  was  only  a  pretty- 
baby  with  soft,  round,  rosy  features, 
made  lovely  by  those  sweet  dark  eyes 
that  the  Spanish  rule  has  left  in  so 
many  a  Flemish  face,  in  testimony  of 
the  Alvan  dominion,  as  Spanish  art 
has  left  broadsown  throughout  the 
country  majestic  palaces  and  stately 
courts,  gilded  house-fronts  and  sculp- 
tured lintels  —  histories  in  blazonry 
and  poems  in  stone. 

Little  Alois  was  often  with  Nello 
and  Patrasche.  They  played  in  the 
fields ;  they  ran  in  the  snow ;  they 
gathered  the  daisies  and  bilberries  ; 
they  went  up  to  the  old  gray  church 
together,  and  they  often  sat  together 
by  the  broad  wood-fire  in  the    mill- 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  ?g 

house.  Little  Alois,  indeed,  was  the 
richest  child  in  the  hamlet.  She  had 
neither  brother  nor  sister;  her  blue 
serge  dress  had  never  a  hole  in  it ;  at 
kermesse  she  had  as  many  gilded 
nuts  and  Agni  Dei  in  sugar  as  her 
hands  could  hold ;  and  when  she  went 
up  for  her  first  communion  her  flaxen 
curls  were  covered  with  a  cap  of  rich- 
est Mechlin  lace,  which  had  been  her 
mother's  and  her  grandmother's  be- 
fore it  came  to  her.  Men  spoke 
already,  though  she  had  but  twelve 
years,  of  the  good  wife  she  would  be 
for  their  sons  to  woo  and  win  ;  but 
she  herself  was  a  little  gay,  simple 
child,  in  nowise  conscious  of  her 
heritage,  and  she  loved  no  play- 
fellows so  well  as  Jehan  Daas'  grand- 
son and  his  dog. 


8o  A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS. 

One  day  her  father,  Baas  Cogez,  a 
good  man,  but  somewhat  stern,  came 
on  a  pretty  group  in  the  long  meadow 
behind  the  mill,  where  the  aftermath 
had  that  day  been  cut.  It  was  his 
little  daughter  sitting  amidst  the 
hay,  with  the  great  tawny  head  of 
Patrasche  on  her  lap,  and  many 
wreaths  of  poppies  and  blue  corn- 
flowers round  them  both  :  on  a  clean, 
smooth  slab  of  pine  wood  the  boy 
Nello  drew  their  likeness  with  a  stick 
of  charcoal. 

The  miller  stood  and  looked  at  the 
portrait  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  it  was 
so  strangely  like,  and  he  loved  his 
only  child  closely  and  well.  Then 
he  roughly  chid  the  little  girl  for 
idling  there  whilst  her  mother  needed 


A   DOG  OF  FLANDERS.  8l 

her  within,  and  sent  her  indoors 
crying  and  afraid :  then,  turning-, 
he  snatched  the  wood  from  Nello's 
hands.  "Dost  do  much  of  such 
folly  ? "  he  asked,  but  there  was  a 
tremble  in  his  voice. 

Nello  colored  and  hung  his  head. 
**  I  draw  everything  I  see,"  he  mur- 
mured. 

The  miller  was  silent :  then  he 
stretched  his  hand  out  with  a  franc 
in  it.  "  It  is  folly  as  I  say,  and  evil 
waste  of  time ;  nevertheless,  it  is 
like  Alois,  and  will  please  the  house- 
mother. Take  this  silver  bit  for  it 
and  leave  it  for  me." 

The  color  died  out  of  the  face  of 
the  young  Ardennois  :  he  lifted  his 
head  and  put  his  hands  behind   his 


82  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

back.  "Keep  your  money  and  the 
portrait  both,  Baas  Cogez,"  he  said 
simply.  "  You  have  been  often  good 
to  me."  Then  he  called  Patrasche 
to  him,  and  walked  away  across  the 
fields. 

"  I  could  have  seen  them  with  that 
franc,"  he  murmured  to  Patrasche, 
"but  I  could  not  sell  her  picture  — 
not  even  for  them." 

Baas  Cogez  went  into  his  mill- 
house  sore  troubled  in  his  mind. 
"That  lad  must  not  be  so  much 
with  Alois,"  he  said  to  his  wife  that 
night.  "Trouble  may  come  of  it 
hereafter :  he  is  fifteen  now,  and  she 
is  twelve  ;  and  the  boy  is  comely  of 
face  and  form." 

"  And  he  is  a  good  lad,  and  a  loyal," 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  83 

said  the  housewife,  feasting  her  eyes 
on  the  piece  of  pine  wood  where  it 
was  throned  above  the  chimney  with 
a  cuckoo  clock  in  oak  and  a  Calvary 
in  wax. 

"  Yea,  I  do  not  gainsay  that,"  said 
the  miller,  draining  his  pewter  flagon. 

"  Then,  if  what  you  think  of  were 
ever  to  come  to  pass,"  said  the  wife, 
hesitatingly,  "  would  it  matter  so 
much  ?  She  will  have  enough  for 
both,  and  one  cannot  be  better  than 
happy." 

"  You  are  a  woman,  and  therefore  a 
fool,"  said  the  miller  harshly,  striking 
his  pipe  on  the  table.  "  The  lad  is 
naught  but  a  beggar,  and,  with  these 
painter's  fancies,  worse  than  a  beggar. 
Have  a  care  that  they  are  not  to- 


84  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

gether  in  the  future,  or  I  will  send 
the  child  to  the  surer  keeping  of  the 
nuns  of  the  Sacred  Heart." 

The  poor  mother  was  terrified,  and 
promised  humbly  to  do  his  will.  Not 
that  she  could  bring  herself  alto- 
gether to  separate  the  child  from  her 
favorite  playmate,  nor  did  the  miller 
even  desire  that  extreme  of  cruelty 
to  a  young  lad  who  was  guilty  of 
nothing  except  poverty.  But  there 
were  many  ways  in  which  little  Alois 
was  kept  away  from  her  chosen  com- 
panion ;  and  Nello  being  a  boy  proud 
and  quiet  and  sensitive,  was  quickly 
wounded,  and  ceased  to  turn  his 
own  steps  and  those  of  Patrasche, 
as  he  had  been  used  to  do  with 
every  moment  of  leisure,  to  the  old 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  85 

red  mill  upon  the  slope.  What  his 
offence  was  he  did  not  know  :  ho 
supposed  he  had  in  some  manner 
angered  Baas  Cogez  by  taking  the 
portrait  of  Alois  in  the  meadow ;  and 
when  the  child,  who  loved  him,  would 
run  to  him  and  nestle  her  hand  in 
his,  he  would  smile  at  her  very  sadly, 
and  say  with  a  tender  concern  for 
her  before  himself,  "  Nay,  Alois,  do 
not  anger  your  father.  He  thinks 
that  I  make  you  idle,  dear,  and  he  is 
not  pleased  that  you  should  be  with 
me.  He  is  a  good  man,  and  loves 
you  well :  we  will  not  anger  him, 
Alois." 

But  it  was  with  a  sad  heart  that  he 
said  it,  and  the  earth  did  not  look 
so  bright  to  him  as  it  had  used  to  do 


86  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

when  he  went  out  at  sunrise  under 
the  poplars  down  the  straight  roads 
with  Patrasche.  The  old  red  mill 
had  been  a  landmark  to  him,  and  he 
had  been  used  to  pause  by  it,  going 
and  coming,  for  a  cheery  greeting 
with  its  people,  as  her  little  flaxen 
head  rose  above  the  low  mill-wicket, 
and  her  little  rosy  hands  had  held 
out  a  bone  or  a  crust  to  Patrasche. 
Now  the  dog  looked  wistfully  at  a 
closed  door,  and  the  boy  went  on 
without  pausing,  with  a  pang  at  his 
heart,  and  the  child  sat  within,  with 
tears  dropping  slowly  on  the  knitting 
to  which  she  was  set,  on  her  little 
stool  by  the  stove  ;  and  Baas  Cogez, 
working  among  his  sacks  and  his 
mill-gear,    would     harden     his    will 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  89 

and  say  to  himself,  "  It  is  best  so. 
The  lad  is  all  but  a  beggar,  and  full 
of  idle,  dreaming  fooleries.  Who 
knows  what  mischief  might  not  come 
of  it  in  the  future  ?  So  he  was  wise  in 
his  generation,  and  would  not  have 
the  door  unbarred,  except  upon  rare 
and  formal  occasions,  which  seemed 
to  have  neither  warmth  nor  mirth  in 
them  to  the  two  children,  who  had 
been  accustomed  so  long  to  a  daily- 
gleeful,  careless,  happy  interchange 
of  greeting,  speech,  and  pastime,  with 
no  other  watcher  of  their  sports 
or  auditor  of  their  fancies  than  Pa- 
trasche,  sagely  shaking  the  brazen 
bells  of  his  collar,  and  responding 
with  all  a  dog's  swift  sympathies  to 
their  every  change  of  mood. 


90  A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

All  this  while  the  little  panel  of 
pine  wood  remained  over  the  chim- 
ney in  the  mill-kitchen,  with  the 
cuckoo  clock  and  the  waxen  Calvary  ; 
and  sometimes  it  seemed  to  Nello  a 
little  hard  that  whilst  his  gift  was 
accepted  he  himself  should  be  denied. 

But  he  did  not  complain  :  it  was 
his  habit  to  be  quiet :  old  Jehan  Daas 
had  said  ever  to  him,  "  We  are  poor : 
we  must  take  what  God  sends  —  the 
ill  with  the  good  :  the  poor  aannot 
choose." 

To  which  the  boy  had  always 
listened  in  silence,  being  reverent  of 
his  old  grandfather  ;  but  nevertheless 
a  certain  vague,  sweet  hope,  such  as 
beguiles  the  children  of  genius,  had 
whispered  in  his  heart,  "  Yet  the  poor 


A   BOG   OF  FLANDERS.  9 1 

do  choose  sometimes  —  choose  to  be 
great,  so  that  men  cannot  say  them 
nay."  And  he  thought  so  still  in  his 
innocence  ;  and  one  day,  when  the 
little  Alois,  finding  him  by  chance 
alone  amongst  the  corn-fields  by  the 
canal,  ran  to  him  and  held  him  close, 
and  sobbed  piteously  because  the  mor- 
row would  be  her  saint's  day,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  all  her  life  her 
parents  had  failed  to  bid  him  to  the 
little  supper  and  romp  in  the  great 
barns  with  which  her  feast-day  was 
always  celebrated,  Nello  had  kissed 
her  and  murmured  to  her  in  firm 
faith,  "  It  shall  be  different  one  day, 
Alois.  One  day  that  little  bit  of 
pine  wood  that  your  father  has  of 
mine    shall  be  worth  its  weight    in 


92  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

silver  ;  and  he  will  not  shut  the  door 
against  me  then.  Only  love  me  al- 
ways, dear  little  Alois,  only  love  me 
always,  and  I  will  be  great." 

"  And  if  I  do  not  love  you  ?  "  the 
pretty  child  asked,  pouting  a  little 
through  her  tears,  and  moved  by  the 
instinctive  coquetries  of  her  sex. 

Nello's  eyes  left  her  face  and 
wandered  to  the  distance,  where 
in  the  red  and  gold  of  the  Flem- 
ish night  the  cathedral  spire  rose. 
There  was  a  smile  on  his  face  so 
sweet  and  yet  so  sad  that  little  Alois 
was  awed  by  it.  "I  will  be  great 
still,"  he  said  under  his  breath  — 
"great  still,  or  die,  Alois." 

"You  do  not  love  me,"  said  the 
little  spoilt  child,  pushing  him  away; 


A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  95 

but  the  boy  shook  his  head  and 
smiled,  and  went  on  his  way  through 
the  tall  yellow  corn,  seeing  as  in  a 
vision  some  day  in  a  fair  future 
when  he  should  come  into  that  old 
familiar  land  and  ask  Alois  of  her 
people,  and  be  not  refused  or  denied, 
but  received  in  honor,  whilst  the  vil- 
lage folk  should  throng  to  look  upon 
him  and  say  in  one  another's  ears, 
"Dost  see  him?  He  is  a  king 
among  men,  for  he  is  a  great  artist, 
and  the  world  speaks  his  name  ;  and 
yet  he  was  only  our  poor  little  Nello, 
who  was  a  beggar,  as  one  may  say, 
and  only  got  his  bread  by  the  help  oi 
his  dog."  And  he  thought  how  he 
would  fold  his  grandsire  in  furs  and 
purples,  and  portray  him  as  the  old 


g6  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

man  is  portrayed  in  the  Family  in 
the  chapel  of  St.  Jacques  ;  and  of 
how  he  would  hang  the  throat  of 
Patrasche  with  a  collar  of  gold,  and 
place  him  on  his  right  hand,  and  say 
to  the  people,  "  This  was  once  my 
only  friend  ;  "  and  of  how  he  would 
build  himself  a  great  white  marble 
palace,  and  make  to  himself  luxuriant 
gardens  of  pleasure  on  the  slope 
looking  outward  to  where  the  cathe- 
dral spire  rose,  and  not  dwell  in  it 
himself,  but  summon  to  it,  as  to  a 
home,  all  men  young  and  poor  and 
friendless,  but  of  the  will  to  do  mighty 
things  ;  and  of  how  he  would  say  to 
them  always,  if  they  sought  to  bless 
his  name,  "Nay,  do  not  thank  me  — 
thank  Rubens.     Without  him,  what 


A    DOG    OF  FLANDERS.  97 

should  I  have  been  ?  "  And  these 
dreams,  beautiful,  impossible,  inno- 
cent, free  of  all  selfishness,  full  of 
heroical  worship,  were  so  closely 
about  him  as  he  went  that  he  was 
happy  —  happy  even  on  this  sad  anni- 
versary of  Alois'  saint's  day,  when  he 
and  Patrasche  went  home  by  them- 
selves to  the  lictle  dark  hut  and  the 
meal  of  black  bread,  whilst  in  the. 
mill-house  all  the  children  of  the  vil- 
lage sang  and  laughed,  and  ate  the 
big  round  cakes  of  Dijon,  and  the 
almond  gingerbread  of  Brabant,  and 
danced  in  the  great  barn  to  the  light 
of  the  stars  and  the  music  of  flute 
and  fiddle. 

"  Never  mind,  Patrasche,"  he  said, 
with  his  arms  round  the  dog's  neck. 


98  A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

as  they  both  sat  in  the  door  of  the 
hut,  where  the  sounds  of  the  mirth 
at  the  mill  came  down  to  them  on 
the  night  air  —  "never  mind.  It 
shall  all  be  changed  by  and  by." 

He  believed  in  the  future :  Pa- 
trasche,  of  more  experience  and  of 
more  philosophy,  thought  that  the 
loss  of  the  mill  supper  in  the  present 
was  ill  compensated  by  dreams  of 
milk  and  honey  in  some  vague  here- 
after. And  Patrasche  growled  when- 
ever he  passed  by  Baas  Cogez. 

"This  is  Alois'  name-day,  is  it 
not  ?  "  said  the  old  man  Daas  that 
night  from  the  corner  where  he 
was  stretched  upon  his  bed  of  sack- 
ing. 

The  boy  gave  a  gesture  of  assent : 


A  DOG   OP  FLANDERS.  99 

he  wished  that  the  old  man's  memory 
had  erred  a  little,  instead  of  keeping 
such  sure  account. 

"  And  why  not  there?  "  his  grand 
father  pursued.  "  Thou  hast  never 
missed  a  year  before,  Nello." 

"  Thou  art  too  sick  to  leave,"  mur- 
mured the  lad,  bending  his  handsome 
young  head  over  the  bed. 

"  Tut !  tut !  Mother  Nulette  would 
have  come  and  sat  with  me,  as  she 
does  scores  of  times.  What  is  the 
cause,  Nello  ?"  the  old  man  persisted. 
"  Thou  surely  hast  not  had  ill  words 
with  the  little  one  ?  " 

"  Nay,  grandfather  —  never,"  said 
the  boy  quickly,  with  a  hot  color  in 
his  bent  face.  "  Simply  and  truly, 
Baas  Cogez  did   not   have  me  asked 


IOO  A   DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

this  year.     He  has  taken  some  whim 
against  me." 

"But  thou  hast  done  nothing 
wrong  ? " 

"That  I  know  —  nothing.  I  took 
the  portrait  of  Alois  on  a  piece  of 
pine  :    that  is  all." 

"Ah  !  "  The  old  man  was  silent : 
the  truth  suggested  itself  to  him 
with  the  boy's  innocent  answer.  He 
was  tied  to  a  bed  of  dried  leaves  in 
the  corner  of  a  wattle  hut,  but  he  had 
not  wholly  forgotten  what  the  ways 
of  the  world  were  like. 

He  drew  Nello's  fair  head  fondly 
to  his  breast  with  a  tenderer  gesture. 
"  Thou  art  very  poor,  my  child,"  he 
said  with  a  quiver  the  more  in  his 
aged,  trembling  voice,  "  so  poor  !  It 
is  very  hard  for  thee." 


A    DOG    OF  FLANDERS.  101 

"Nay,  I  am  rich,"  murmured 
Nello ;  and  in  his  innocence  he 
thought  so  —  rich  with  the  imperish- 
able powers  that  are  mightier  than 
the  might  of  kings.  And  he  went 
and  stood  by  the  door  of  the  hut  in 
the  quiet  autumn  night,  and  watched 
the  stars  troop  by  and  the  tall  poplars 
bend  and  shiver  in  the  wind.  All 
the  casements  of  the  mill-house  were 
lighted,  and  every  now  and  then  the 
notes  of  the  flute  came  to  him.  The 
tears  fell  down  his  cheeks,  for  he 
was  but  a  child ;  yet  he  smiled,  for  he 
said  to  himself,  "  In  the  future  i  " 
He  stayed  there  until  all  was  quite 
still  and  dark,  then  he  and  Patrasche 
went  within  and  slept  together,  long 
and  deeply,  side  by  side. 


102  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

Now,  he  had  a  secret  which  only 
Patrasche  knew.  There  was  a  little 
out-house  to  the  hut,  which  no  one 
entered  but  himself, —  a  dreary  place, 
•but  with  abundant  clear  light  from 
the  north.  Here  he  had  fashioned 
himself  rudely  an  easel  in  rough 
lumber,  and  here,  on  a  great  gray 
sea  of  stretched  paper,  he  had  given 
shape  to  one  of  the  innumerable 
fancies  which  possessed  his  brain. 
No  one  had  ever  taught  him  any- 
thing; colors  he  had  no  means  to 
buy :  he  had  gone  without  bread 
many  a  time  to  procure  even  the  few 
rude  vehicles  that  he  had  here ;  and 
it  was  only  in  black  or  white  that  he 
could  fashion  the  things  he  saw. 
This  great  figure  which  he  had  drawn 


A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  I0£ 

here  in  chalk  was  only  an  old  man 
sitting  on  a  fallen  tree  —  only  that. 
He  had  seen  old  Michel  the  wood- 
man sitting  so  at  evening  many  a 
time.  He  had  never  had  a  soul  to 
tell  him  of  outline  or  perspective,  of 
anatomy  or  of  shadow,  and  yet  he 
had  given  all  the  weary,  worn-out 
age,  all  the  sad,  quiet  patience,  all 
the  rugged,  careworn  pathos  of  his 
original,  and  given  them  so  that  the 
old,  lonely  figure  was  a  poem,  sitting 
there,  meditative  and  alone,  on 
the  dead  tree,  with  the  darkness 
of  the  descending  night  behind 
him. 

It  was  rude,  of  course,  in  a  way, 
and  had  many  faults,  no  doubt  ;  and 
yet  it  was  real,  true  in  Nature,  true 


106  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS, 

in  Art,  and  very  mournful,  and  in  a 
manner  beautiful. 

Patrasche  had  lain  quiet  countless 
hours  watching  its  gradual  creation 
after  the  labor  of  each  day  was  done ; 
and  he  knew  that  Nello  had  a  hope 
— vain  and  wild,  perhaps,  but 
strongly  cherished  —  of  sending  this 
great  drawing  to  compete  for  a  prize 
of  two  hundred  francs  a  year,  which 
it  was  announced  in  Antwerp  would 
"be  open  to  every  lad  of  talent, 
■scholar  or  peasant,  under  eighteen, 
-who  would  attempt  to  win  it  with 
some  unaided  work  of  chalk  or  pen- 
cil. Three  of  the  foremost  artists 
in  the  town  of  Rubens  were  to  be 
the  judges  and  elect  the  victor  ac- 
cording to  his  merits. 


Nello  at  Work  on  his  Picture. 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  107 

All  the  spring  and  summer  and 
autumn  Nello  had  been  at  work 
upon  this  treasure,  which,  if  triumph- 
ant, would  build  him  his  first  step 
toward  independence  and  the  myste- 
ries of  the  art  which  he  blindly,  ig- 
norantly,  and  yet  passionately  adored. 

He  said  nothing  to  any  one :  his 
grandfather  would  not  have  under- 
stood, and  little  Alois  was  lost  to 
him.  Only  to  Patrasche  he  told  all, 
and  whispered,  "  Rubens  would  give 
it  me,  I  think,  if   he  knew." 

Patrasche  thought  so  too,  for  he 
knew  that  Rubens  had  loved  dogs,  or 
he  had  never  painted  them  with  such 
exquisite  fidelity ;  and  men  who  loved 
dogs  were,  as  Patrasche  knew,  always 
pitiful. 


108  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

The  drawings  were  to  go  in  on. 
the  first  day  of  December,  and  the 
decision  be  given  on  the  twenty- 
fourth,  so  that  he  who  should  win 
might  rejoice  with  all  his  people  at 
the  Christmas  season. 

In  the  twilight  of  a  bitter  wintry 
day,  and  with  a  beating  heart,  now 
quick  with  hope,  now  faint  with  fear, 
Nello  placed  the  great  picture  on  his 
little  green  milk-cart,  and  took  it, 
with  the  help  of  Patrasche,  into  the 
town,  and  there  left  it,  as  enjoined, 
at  the  doors  of  a  public  building. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  worth  nothing  at 
all.  How  can  I  tell  ?  "  he  thought, 
with  the  heartsickness  of  a  great 
timidity.  Now  that  he  had  left  it 
there,  it  seemed  to  him  so  hazardous. 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  IOO/ 

so  vain,  so  foolish,  to  dream  that  he, 
a  little  lad  with  bare  feet,  who  barely 
knew  his  letters,  could  do  anything 
at  which  great  painters,  real  artists, 
could  ever  deign  to  look.  Yet  he 
took  heart  as  he  went  by  the  ca- 
thedral :  the  lordly  form  of  Rubens 
seemed  to  rise  from  the  fog  and  the 
darkness,  to  loom  in  its  magnifi- 
cence before  him,  whilst  the  lips, 
with  their  kindly  smile,  seemed 
to  him  to  murmur,  "  Nay,  have  cour- 
age !  It  was  not  by  a  weak  heart 
and  by  faint  fears  that  I  wrote  my 
name  for  all  time  upon  Antwerp." 

Nello  ran  home  through  the  cold 
night,  comforted.  He  had  done  his 
best :  the  rest  must  be  as  God  willed, 
he  thought,  in  that  innocent,  unques- 


110  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

tioning  faith  which  had  been  taught 
him  in  the  little  gray  chapel  amongst 
the  willows  and  the  poplar-trees. 

The  winter  was  very  sharp  already. 
That  night,  after  they  reached  the 
hut,  snow  fell ;  and  fell  for  very  many 
days  after  that,  so  that  the  paths 
and  the  divisions  in  the  fields  were 
all  obliterated,  and  all  the  smaller 
streams  were  frozen  over,  and  the 
cold  was  intense  upon  the  plains. 
Then,  indeed,  it  became  hard  work 
to  go  round  for  the  milk  while  the 
world  was  all  dark,  and  carry  it 
through  the  darkness  to  the  silent 
town.  Hard  work,,  especially  for 
Patrasche,  for  the  passage  of  the 
years,  that  were  only  bringing  Nello 
a  stronger  youth,  were  bringing   him 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  Ill 

old  age,  and  his  joints  were  stiff, 
and  his  bones  ached  often.  But  he 
would  never  give  up  his  share  of  the 
labor.  Nello  would  fain  have  spared 
him,  and  drawn  the  cart  himself,  but 
Patrasche  would  not  allow  it.  All 
he  would  ever  permit  or  accept  was 
the  help  of  a  thrust  from  behind  to  the 
truck,  as  it  lumbered  along  through 
the  ice-ruts.  Patrasche  had  lived  in 
harness,  and  he  was  proud  of  it.  He 
suffered  a  great  deal  sometimes  from 
frost,  and  the  terrible  roads,  and  the 
rheumatic  pains  of  his  limbs,  but  he 
only  drew  his  breath  hard  and  bent 
his  stout  neck,  and  trod  onward  with 
steady  patience. 

"  Rest  thee  at  home,  Patrasche, — 
it  is  time  thou   didst  restv —  and  I 


112  A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

can  quite  well  push  in  the  cart  by 
myself,"  urged  Nello  many  a  morn- 
ing; but  Patrasche,  who  understood 
him  aright,  would  no  more  have  con- 
sented to  stay  at  home  than  a  veteran 
soldier  to  shirk  when  the  charge  was 
sounding ;  and  every  day  he  would 
rise  and  place  himself  in  his  shafts, 
»and  plod  along  over  the  snow  through 
the  fields  that  his  four  round  feet 
had  left  their  print  upon  so  many, 
many  years. 

"  One  must  never  rest  till  one  dies," 
thought  Patrasche ;  and  sometimes  it 
seemed  to  him  that  that  time  of 
rest  for  him  was  not  very  far  off. 
His  sight  was  less  clear  than  it  had 
been,  and  it  gave  him  pain  to  rise 
after   the   night's    sleep,    though   he 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  II3 

•would  never  lie  a  moment  in  his 
straw  when  once  the  bell  of  the 
•chapel,  tolling  five,  let  him  know 
that  the  daybreak  of  labor  had  begun. 

"  My  poor  Patrasche,  we  shall  soon 
lie  quiet  together,  you  and  I,"  said 
old  Jehan  Daas,  stretching  out  to 
stroke  the  head  of  Patrasche  with 
the  old  withered  hand  which  had  al- 
ways shared  with  him  its  one  poor 
crust  of  bread;  and  the  hearts  of 
the  old  man  and  the  old  dog  ached 
together  with  one  thought,  —  when 
they  were  gone,  who  would  care 
for  their  darling? 

One  afternoon,  as  they  came  back 
from  Antwerp  over  the  snow,  which 
had  become  hard  and  smooth  as 
marble  over  all  the  Flemish  plains, 


LI 4  A   D0G   °F  FLANDERS. 

they  found  dropped  in  the  road  a 
pretty  little  puppet,  a  tambourine 
player,  all  scarlet  and  gold,  about 
six  inches  high,  and,  unlike  greater 
personages  when  Fortune  lets  them 
drop,  quite  unspoiled  and  unhurt  by 
its  fall.  It  was  a  pretty  toy.  Nello 
tried  to  find  its  owner,  and,  failing, 
thought  that  it  was  just  the  thing  to 
please  Alois. 

It  was  quite  night  when  he  passed 
the  mill-house ;  he  knew  the  little 
window  of  her  room.  It  could  be 
no  harm,  he  thought,  if  he  gave  her 
his  little  piece  of  treasure-trove,  they 
had  been  playfellows  so  long.  There 
was  a  shed  with  a  sloping  roof  be- 
neath her  casement :  he  climbed  it, 
and  tapped  softly  at  the  lattice :  there 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  11/ 

was  a  little  light  within.  The  child 
opened  it  and  looked  out,  half 
frightened 

Nello  put  the  tambourine-player 
into  her  hands.  "  Here  is  a  doll  I 
found  in  the  snow,  Alois.  Take  it,'r 
he  whispered ;  "  take  it,  and  God 
bless  thee,  dear  !  " 

He  slid  down  from  the  shed-roof 
before  she  had  time  to  thank  him,, 
and  ran  off  through  the  darkness. 

That  night  there  was  a  fire  at  the 
mill.  Out-buildings  and  much  corn 
were  destroyed,  although  the  mill 
itself  and  the  dwelling-house  were 
unharmed.  All  the  village  was  out 
in  terror,  and  engines  came  tearing 
through  the  snow  from  Antwerp. 
The  miller   was  insured,  and  would 


Il8  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

lose  nothing  :  nevertheless,  he  was 
in  furious  wrath,  and  declared  aloud 
that  the  fire  was  due  to  no  accident, 
but  to  some  foul  intent. 

Nello,  awakened  from  his  sleep, 
ran  to  help  with  the  rest.  Baas 
Cogez  thrust  him  angrily  aside. 
"Thou  wert  loitering  here  after 
dark,"  he  said  roughly.  "  I  believe, 
on  my  soul,  that  thou  dost  know 
more  of  the  fire  than  any  one ! " 

Nello  heard  him  in  silence,  stu- 
pefied, not  supposing  that  any  one 
could  say  such  things  except  in  jest, 
and  not  comprehending  how  any  one 
could  pass  a  jest  at  such  a  time. 

Nevertheless,  the  miller  said  the 
brutal  thing  openly  to  many  of  his 
neighbors  in  the  day  that  followed ; 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  II9 

and  though  no  serious  charge  was 
ever  preferred  against  the  lad,  it  got 
bruited  about  that  Nello  had  been 
seen  in  the  mill-yard  after  dark  on 
some  unspoken  errand,  and  that  he 
bore  Baas  Cogez  a  grudge  for  forbid- 
ding his  intercourse  with  little  Alois  ; 
and  so  the  hamlet,  which  followed 
the  sayings  of  its  richest  landowner 
servilely,  and  whose  families  all 
hoped  to  secure  the  riches  of  Alois 
in  some  future  time  for  their  sons, 
took  the  hint  to  give  grave  looks  and 
cold  words  to  old  Jehan  Daas'  grand- 
son. No  one  said  anything  to  him 
openly,  but  all  the  village  agreed  to- 
gether to  humor  the  miller's  preju- 
dice ;  and  at  the  cottages  and  farms 
where    Nello    and    Patrasche    called 


120  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

every  morning  for  the  milk  for  Ant- 
werp, downcast  glances  and  brief 
phrases  replaced  to  them  the  broad 
smiles  and  cheerful  greetings  to 
which  they  had  been  always  used. 
No  one  really  credited  the  miller's 
absurd  suspicion,  nor  the  outrageous 
accusations  born  of  them,  but  the 
people  were  all  very  poor  and  very 
ignorant,  and  the  one  rich  man  of 
the  place  had  pronounced  against 
him.  Nello,  in  his  innocence  and 
his  friendlessness,  had  no  strength 
to  stem  the  popular  tide. 

"  Thou  art  very  cruel  to  the  lad," 
the  miller's  wife  dared  to  say,  weep- 
ing, to  her  lord.  "  Sure  he  is  an  in- 
nocent lad  and  a  faithful,  and  would 
never    dream    of    any   such  wicked- 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  12$ 

ness,  however  sore  his  heart  might 
be." 

But  Baas  Cogez,  being  an  obstinate 
man,  having  once  said  a  thing  held 
t<3  it  doggedly,  though  in  his  inner- 
most soul  he  knew  well  the  injustice 
that  he  was  committing. 

Meanwhile,  Nello  endured  the 
injury  done  against  him  with  a  cer- 
tain proud  patience  that  disdained  to 
complain  :  he  only  gave  way  a  little 
when  he  was  quite  alone  with  old  Pa- 
trasche.  Besides,  he  thought,  "  If 
it  should  win !  They  will  be  sorry 
then,  perhaps." 

Still,  to  a  boy  not  quite  sixteen, 
and  who  had  dwelt  in  one  little  world 
all  his  short  life,  and  in  his  childhood 
had  been  caressed  and  applauded  on 


124  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

all  sides,  it  was  a  hard  trial  to 
have  the  whole  of  that  little  world 
turn  against  him  for  naught.  Es- 
pecially hard  in  that  bleak,  snow- 
bound, famine-stricken  winter-time 
when  the  only  light  and  warmth 
there  could  be  found  abode  beside 
the  village  hearths  and  in  the  kindly 
greetings  of  neighbors.  In  the  win- 
ter-time all  drew  nearer  to  each  other, 
all  to  all,  except  to  Nello  and  Pa- 
trasche,  with  whom  none  now  would 
have  anything  to  do,  and  who  were 
left  to  fare  as  they  might  with  the 
old  paralyzed,  bedridden  man  in  the 
little  cabin,  whose  fire  was  often  low, 
and  whose  board  was  often  without 
bread ;  for  there  was  a  buyer  from 
Antwerp  who  had  taken  to  drive  his 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  1 25 

mule  in  of  a  day  for  the  milk  of  the 
various  dairies,  and  there  were  only- 
three  or  four  of  the  people  who  had 
refused  his  terms  of  purchase  and 
remained  faithful  to  the  little  green 
cart.  So  that  the  burden  which  Pa- 
trasche  drew  had  become  very  light, 
and  the  centime-pieces  in  Nello's 
pouch  had  become,  alas  !  very  small 
likewise. 

The  dog  would  stop,  as  usual,  at 
all  the  familiar  gates  which  were 
now  closed  to  him,  and  look  up  at 
them  with  wistful,  mute  appeal ;  and 
it  cost  the  neighbors  a  pang  to  shut 
their  doors  and  their  hearts,  and  let 
Patrasche  draw  his  cart  on  again, 
empty.  Nevertheless,  they  did  it,  for 
they  desired  to  please  Baas  Cogez, 


126  A    DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

Noel  was  close  at  hand. 

The  weather  was  very  wild  and 
cold.  The  snow  was  six  feet  deep, 
and  the  ice  was  firm  enough  to  bear 
oxen  and  men  upon  it  everywhere. 
At  this  season  the  little  village  was 
always  gay  and  cheerful.  At  the 
poorest  dwelling  there  were  pos- 
sets and  cakes,  joking  and  dancing, 
sugared  saints,  and  gilded  Jesus. 
The  merry  Flemish  bells  jingled 
everywhere  on  the  horses  ;  every- 
where within  doors  some  well-filled 
soup-pot  sang  and  smoked  over  the 
stove  ;  and  everywhere  over  the  snow 
without  laughing  maidens  pattered 
in  bright  kerchiefs  and  stout  kirtles, 
going  to  and  from  the  mass.  Only 
in  the  little  hut  it  was  very  dark  and 
very  cold. 


Sat  by  the  fireless  hearth." 


A    DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  \2J 

Nello  and  Patrasche  were  left  ut- 
terly alone  ;  for  one  night  in  the 
week  before  the  Christmas  Day, 
Death  entered  there,  and  took  away 
from  life  forever  old  Jehan  Daas, 
who  had  never  known  of  life  aught 
save  its  poverty  and  its  pains.  He 
had  long  been  half  dead,  incapable 
of  any  movement  except  a  feeble 
gesture,  and  powerless  for  anything 
beyond  a  gentle  word  ;  and  yet  his 
loss  fell  on  them  both  with  a  great 
horror  in  it.  They  mourned  him 
passionately.  He  had  passed  away 
from  them  in  his  sleep,  and  when  in 
the  gray  dawn  they  learned  their 
bereavement,  unutterable  solitude  and 
desolation  seemed  to  close  around 
them.     He   had   long   been   only   a 


128  A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS. 

poor,  feeble,  paralyzed  old  man,  who 
could  not  raise  a  hand  in  their  de- 
fence, but  he  had  loved  them  well ; 
his  smile  had  always  welcomed  their 
return.  They  mourned  for  him  un- 
ceasingly, refusing  to  be  comforted, 
as  in  the  white  winter  day  they  fol- 
lowed the  deal  shell  that  held  his 
body  to  the  nameless  grave  by  the 
little  gray  church.  They  were  his 
only  mourners,  these  two  whom  he 
had  left  friendless  upon  earth, —  the 
young  boy  and  the  old  dog.  "  Surely 
he  will  relent  now  and  let  the  poor 
lad  come  hither?"  thought  the  mil- 
ler's wife,  glancing  at  her  husband 
where  he  smoked  by  the  hearth. 

Baas  Cogez  knew  her  thought,  but 
he  hardened  his  heart,  and  would  not 


A   BOG   OF  FLANDERS.  131 

unbar  his  door  as  the  little  humble 
funeral  went  by.  "  The  boy  is  a 
beggar,"  he  said  to  himself  :  "  he  shall 
not  be  about  Alois." 

The  woman  dared  not  say  anything 
aloud,  but  when  the  grave  was  closed 
and  the  mourners  had  gone,  she  put 
a  wreath  of  immortelles  into  Alois' 
hands,  and  bade  her  go  and  lay  it 
reverently  on  the  dark,  unmarked 
mound  where  the  snow  was  displaced. 

Nello  and  Patrasche  went  home 
with  broken  hearts ;  but  even  of  that 
poor,  melancholy,  cheerless  home 
they  were  denied  the  consolation. 
There  was  a  month's  rent  over-due 
for  their  little  home,  and  when  Nello 
had  paid  the  last  sad  service  to  the 
dead  he   had   not   a   coin   left.     He 


132  A   BOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

went  and  begged  grace  of  the  owner 
of  the  hut,  a  cobbler  who  went  every 
Sunday  night  to  drink  his  pint  of 
wine  and  smoke  with  Baas  Cogez. 
The  cobbler  would  grant  no  mercy. 
He  was  a  harsh,  miserly  man,  and 
loved  money.  He  claimed  in  default 
of  his  rent  every  stick  and  stone, 
every  pot  and  pan,  in  the  hut,  and 
bade  Nello  and  Patrasche  be  out  of 
it  on  the  morrow. 

Now,  the  cabin  was  lowly  enough, 
and  in  some  sense  miserable  enough, 
and  yet  their  hearts  clove  to  it  with 
a  great  affection.  They  had  been  so 
happy  there,  and  in  the  summer,  with 
its  clambering  vine  and  its  flowering 
beans,  it  was  so  pretty  and  bright  in 
the   midst  of  the  sun-lighted  fields ! 


A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  1 35 

Their  life  in  it  had  been  full  of  labor 
and  privation,  and  yet  they  had  been 
so  well  content,  so  gay  of  heart,  run- 
ning together  to  meet  the  old  man's 
never-failing  smile  of  welcome ! 

All  night  long  the  boy  and  the 
dog  sat  by  the  fireless  hearth  in  the 
darkness,  drawn  close  together  for 
warmth  and  sorrow.  Their  bodies 
were  insensible  to  the  cold,  but  their 
hearts  seemed  frozen  in  them. 

When  the  morning  broke  over  the 
white,  chill  earth  it  was  the  morning 
of  Christmas  Eve.  With  a  shudder 
Nello  clasped  close  to  him  his  only 
friend,  while  his  tears  fell  hot  and 
fast  on  the  dog's  frank  forehead. 
"  Let  us  go,  Patrasche,  —  dear,  dear 
Patrasche,"    he    murmured.       "  We 


136  A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

will  not  wait  to  be  kicked  out :  let  us 

go." 

Patrasche  had  no  will  but  his,  and 
they  went  sadly,  side  by  side,  out 
from  the  little  place  which  was  so 
dear  to  them  both,  and  in  which 
every  humble,  homely  thing  was  to 
them  precious  and  beloved.  Pa- 
trasche drooped  his  head  wearily  as  he 
passed  by  his  own  green  cart  :  it  was 
no  longer  his  —  it  had  to  go  with  the 
rest  to  pay  the  rent,  and  his  brass 
harness  lay  idle  and  glittering  on  the 
snow.  The  dog  could  have  lain 
down  beside  it  and  died  for  very 
heart  sickness  as  he  went ;  but  whilst 
the  lad  lived  and  needed  him  Pa- 
trasche would  not  yield  and  give 
way. 


A  DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  I  7,7 

They  took  the  old  accustomed 
road  into  Antwerp.  The  day  had 
yet  scarce  more  than  dawned ;  most 
of  the  shutters  were  still  closed,  but 
some  of  the  villagers  were  about. 
They  took  no  notice  whilst  the  dog 
and  the  boy  passed  by  them.  At 
one  door  Nello  paused  and  looked 
wistfully  within :  his  grandfather  had 
done  many  a  kindly  turn  in  neigh- 
bor's service  to  the  people  who 
dwelt  there. 

"  Would  you  give  Patrasche  a 
crust  ?  "  he  said  timidly.  "  He  is  old, 
and  he  has  had  nothing  since  last 
forenoon." 

The  woman  shut  the  door  hastily, 
murmuring  some  vague  saying  about 
wheat  and  rye  being  very  dear  that 


I38  A    DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

season.  The  boy  and  the  dog  went 
on  again  wearily :  they  asked  no 
more. 

By  slow  and  painful  ways  they 
reached  Antwerp  as  the  chimes 
tolled  ten. 

"  If  I  had  anything  about  me  I 
could  sell  to  get  him  bread  ! "  thought 
Nello  ;  but  he  had  nothing  except  the 
wisp  of  linen  and  serge  that  covered 
him,  and  his  pair  of  wooden  shoes. 

Patrasche  understood,  and  nestled 
his  nose  into  the  lad's  hand,  as 
though  to  pray  him  not  to  be  dis- 
quieted for  any  woe  or  want  of  his. 

The  winner  of  the  drawing-prke 
was  to  be  proclaimed  at  noon,  and  to 
the  public  building  where  he  had  left 
his  treasure    Nello    made   his   way. 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  1 39 

On  the  steps  and  in  the  entrance-hall 
there  was  a  crowd  of  youths, —  some 
of  his  age,  some  older,  all  with  par- 
ents or  relatives  or  friends.  His 
heart  was  sick  with  fear  as  he  went 
amongst  them,  holding  Patrasche 
close  to  him.  The  great  bells  of  the 
city  clashed  out  the  hour  of  noon 
with  brazen  clamor.  The  doors  of 
the  inner  hall  were  opened ;  the 
eager,  panting  throng  rushed  in  :  it 
was  known  that  the  selected  picture 
would  be  raised  above  the  rest  upon 
a  wooden  dais. 

A  mist  obscured  Nello's  sight,  his 
head  swam,  his  limbs  almost  failed 
him.  When  his  vision  cleared  he 
saw  the  drawing  raised  on  high :  it 
was  not  his  own  !     A  slow,  sonorous 


140  A   DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

voice  was  proclaiming  aloud  that  vic- 
tory had  been  adjudged  to  Stephan 
Kiesslinger,  born  in  the  burgh  of 
Antwerp,  son  of  a  wharfinger  in 
that  town. 

When  Nello  recovered  his  con- 
sciousness he  was  lying  on  the 
.stones  without,  and  Patrasche  was 
trying  with  every  art  he  knew  to  call 
him  back  to  life.  In  the  distance 
a  throng  of  the  youths  of  Antwerp 
were  shouting  around  their  success- 
ful comrade,  and  escorting  him  with 
acclamations  to  his  home  upon  the 
quay. 

The  boy  staggered  to  his  feet 
and  drew  the  dog  to  his  embrace. 
"  It  is  all  over,  dear  Patrasche,"  he 
murmured,  "  all  over  !  " 


A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS.  141 

He  rallied  himself  as  best  he 
could,  for  he  was  weak  from  fasting, 
and  retraced  his  steps  to  the  village. 
Patrasche  paced  by  his  side  with  his 
head  drooping  and  his  old  limbs  fee- 
ble from  hunger  and  sorrow. 

The  snow  was  falling  fast  ;  a  keen 
hurricane  blew  from  the  north  ;  it 
was  bitter  as  death  on  the  plains. 
It  took  them  long  to  traverse  the 
familiar  path,  and  the  bells  were 
sounding  four  of  the  clock  as  they 
approached  the  hamlet.  Suddenly 
Patrasche  paused,  arrested  by  a  scent 
in  the  snow,  scratched,  whined,  and 
drew  out  with  his  white  teeth  a  small 
case  of  brown  leather.  He  held  it 
up  to  Nello  in  the  darkness.  Where 
they  were  there  stood  a  little  Calvary, 


142  A   BOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

and  a  lamp  burned  dully  under  the 
cross  :  the  boy  mechanically  turned 
the  case  to  the  light :  on  it  was  the 
name  of  Baas  Cogez,  and  within  it 
were    notes  for  two  thousand  francs. 

The  sight  roused  the  lad  a  little 
from  his  stupor.  He  thrust  it  in 
his  shirt,  and  stroked  Patrasche  and 
drew  him  onward.  The  dog  looked 
up  wistfully  in  his  face. 

Nello  made  straight  for  the  mill- 
house,  and  went  to  the  house-door 
and  struck  on  its  panels.  The  mil- 
ler's wife  opened  it,  weeping,  with 
little  Alois  clinging  close  to  her 
skirts.  "  Is  it  thee,  thou  poor  lad  ?" 
she  said  kindly  through  her  tears. 
"  Get  thee  gone  ere  the  Baas  see 
thee.     We    are   in  sore   trouble   to- 


A   BOG   OF  FLANDERS.  1 45 

night.  He  is  out  seeking  for  a 
power  of  money  that  he  has  let  fall 
riding  homeward,  and  in  this  snow 
he  never  will  find  it ;  and  God  knows 
it  will  go  nigh  to  ruin  us.  It  is 
Heaven's  own  judgment  for  the 
things  we  have  done  to  thee." 

Nello  put  the  note-case  in  her 
hand  and  called  Patrasche  within  the 
house.  "  Patrasche  found  the  money 
to-night,"  he  said  quickly.  "  Tell 
Baas  Cogez  so  :  I  think  he  will  not 
deny  the  dog  shelter  and  food  in  his 
old  age.  Keep  him  from  pursuing 
me,  and  I  pray  of  you  to  be  good  to 
him." 

Ere  either  woman  or  dog  knew 
what  he  meant  he  had  stooped  and 
kissed    Patrasche,   then  closed     the 


I46  A   DOG  OF  FLANDERS. 

door   hurriedly,   and  disappeared    in 
the  gloom  of  the  fast-falling  night. 

The  woman  and  the  child  stood 
speechless  with  joy  and  fear :  Pa- 
trasche  vainly  spent  the  fury  of  his 
anguish  against  the  iron-bound  oak 
of  the  barred  house-door.  They  did 
not  dare  unbar  the  door  and  let  him 
forth  :  they  tried  all  they  could  to 
solace  him.  They  brought  him 
sweet  cakes  and  juicy  meats  ;  they 
tempted  him  with  the  best  they  had  ; 
they  tried  to  lure  him  to  abide  by 
the  warmth  of  the  hearth  ;  but  it 
was  of  no  avail.  Patrasche  refused 
to  be  comforted  or  to  stir  from  the 
barred  portal. 

It  was  six  o'clock  when  from  an 
opposite  entrance  the  miller  at  last 


A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS.  147 

came,  jaded  and  broken,  into  his 
wife's  presence.  "  It  is  lost  forever," 
he  said  with  an  ashen  cheek  and  a 
quiver  in  his  stern  voice.  "  We  have 
looked  with  lanterns  everywhere  :  it 
is  gone  —  the  little  maiden's  portion 
and  all!" 

His  wife  put  the  money  into  his 
hand,  and  told  him  how  it  had  come 
to  her.  The  strong  man  sank  trem- 
bling into  a  seat  and  covered  his 
face,  ashamed  and  almost  afraid.  "  I 
have  been  cruel  to  the  lad,"  he  mut- 
tered at  length  ;  "  I  deserved  not  to 
have  good  at  his  hands." 

Little  Alois,  taking  courage,  crept 
close  to  her  father  and  nestled 
against  him  her  fair  curly  head. 
u  Nello  may    come    here    again,    fa- 


I48  A    DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

ther  ? "  she  whispered.  "  He  may 
come  to-morrow  as  he  used  to  do  ?" 

The  miller  pressed  her  in  his 
arms ;  his  hard,  sun-burned  face  was 
very  pale,  and  his  mouth  trembled. 
"  Surely,  surely,"  he  answered  his 
child.  "  He  shall  bide  here  on 
Christmas  Day,  and  any  other  day 
he  will.  God  helping  me,  I  will 
make  amends  to  the  boy  —  I  will 
make  amends." 

Little  Alois  kissed  him  in  gratitude 
and  joy,  then  slid  from  his  knees  and 
ran  to  where  the  dog  kept  watch  by 
the  door.  "  And  to-night  I  may 
feast  Patrasche  ? "  she  cried  in  a 
child's  thoughtless  glee. 

Her  father  bent  his  head  gravely. 
"Ay,  ay  :  let  the  dog  have  the  best;" 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  149 

for  the  stern  old  man  was  moved  and 
shaken  to  his  heart's  depths. 

It  was  Christmas  Eve,  and  the 
mill-house  was  filled  with  oak  logs 
and  squares  of  turf,  with  cream  and 
honey,  with  meat  and  bread,  and 
the  rafters  were  hung  with  wreaths 
of  evergreen,  and  the  Calvary  and 
cuckoo  clock  looked  out  from  a  mass 
of  holly.  There  were  little  paper 
lanterns  too  for  Alois,  and  toys  of 
various  fashions,  and  sweetmeats  in 
bright-pictured  papers.  There  were 
light  and  warmth  and  abundance 
everywhere,  and  the  child  would  fain 
have  made  the  dog  a  guest  honored 
and  feasted. 

But  Patrasche  would  neither  lie  in 
the  warmth  nor  share  in  the  cheer. 


150  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

Famished  he  was,  and  very  cold,  but 
without  Nello  he  would  partake  nei- 
ther of  comfort  nor  food.  Against 
all  temptation  he  was  proof,  and 
close  against  the  door  he  leaned 
always,  watching  only  for  a  means 
of  escape. 

"  He  wants  the  lad,"  said  Baas 
Cogez.  "  Good  dog  !  good  dog  !  1 
will  go  over  to  the  lad  the  first  thing 
at  day-dawn."  For  no  one  but  Pa- 
trasche  knew  that  Nello  had  left  the 
hut,  and  no  one  but  Patrasche  divined 
that  Nello  had  gone  to  face  star- 
vation and  misery  alone. 

The  mill-kitchen  was  very  warm ; 
great  logs  crackled  and  flamed  on 
the  hearth ;  neighbors  came  in  for  a 
glass  of  wine  and  a  slice  of  the  fat 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  15 1 

goose  baking  for  supper.  Alois, 
gleeful,  and  sure  of  her  playmate 
back  on  the  morrow,  bounded  and 
sang  and  tossed  back  her  yellow  hair. 
Baas  Cogez,  in  the  fulness  of  his 
heart,  smiled  on  her  through  moist- 
ened eyes,  and  spoke  of  the  way  in 
which  he  would  befriend  her  favor- 
ite companion  ;  the  house-mother 
sat  with  calm,  contented  face  at 
the  spinning-wheel ;  the  cuckoo  in 
the  clock  chirped  mirthful  hours. 
Amidst  it  all  Patrasche  was  bidden 
with  a  thousand  words  of  "welcome 
to  tarry  there  a  cherished  guest. 
But  neither  peace  nor  plenty  could 
allure  him  where  Nello  was  not. 

When  the  supper  smoked  on  the 
board,   and  the  voices  were   loudest 


i$2  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

and  gladdest,  and  the  Christ-child 
brought  choicest  gifts  to  Alois,  Pa- 
trasche,  watching  always  an  occasion, 
glided  out  when  the  door  was  un- 
latched by  a  careless  new-comer,  and 
as  swiftly  as  his  weak  and  tired  limbs 
would  bear  him  sped  over  the  snow 
in  the  bitter  black  night.  He  had 
only  one  thought, —  to  follow  Nello. 
A  human  friend  might  have  paused 
for  the  pleasant  meal,  the  cheery 
warmth,  the  cosey  slumber  ;  but  that 
was  not  the  friendship  of  Patrasche. 
He  remembered  a  bygone  time,  when 
an  old  man  and  a  little  child  had 
found  him  sick  unto  death  in  the 
wayside  ditch. 

Snow  had  fallen  freshly  all  the  even- 
ing  long ;   it  was   now   nearly  ten ; 


A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS.  1 55 

the  trail  of  the  boy's  footsteps  was 
almost  obliterated.  It  took  Patrasche 
long  to  discover  any  scent.  When 
at  last  he  found  it,  it  was  lost  again 
quickly,  and  lost  and  recovered,  and 
again  lost  and  again  recovered  a 
hundred  times  or  more. 

The  night  was  very  wild.  The 
lamps  under  the  wayside  crosses 
were  blown  out  ;  the  roads  were 
sheets  of  ice ;  the  impenetrable 
darkness  hid  every  trace  of  habita- 
tions ;  there  was  no  living  thing 
abroad.  All  the  cattle  were  housed, 
and  in  all  the  huts  and  homesteads 
men  and  women  rejoiced  and  feasted. 
There  was  only  Patrasche  out  in  the 
cruel  cold  —  old  and  famished  and 
full  of  pain,  but  with  the  strength 


156  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

and  the  patience  of  a  great  love  to 
sustain  him  in  his  search. 

The  trail  of  Nello's  steps,  faint 
and  obscure  as  it  was  under  the  new 
snow,  went  straightly  along  the  ac- 
customed tracks  into  Antwerp.  It 
was  past  midnight  when  Patrasche 
traced  it  over  the  boundaries  of  the 
town  and  into  the  narrow,  tortuous, 
gloomy  streets.  It  was  all  quite  dark 
in  the  town,  save  where  some  light 
gleamed  ruddily  through  the  crevices 
of  house-shutters,  or  some  group 
went  homeward  with  lanterns,  chant- 
ing drinking-songs.  The  streets 
were  all  white  with  ice  ;  the  high 
walls  and  roofs  loomed  black  against 
them.  There  was  scarce  a  sound 
save  the  riot  of  the  winds  down  the 


A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS.  1 57 

passages  as  they  tossed  the  creaking 
signs  and  shook  the  tall  lamp-irons. 

So  many  passers-by  had  trodden 
through  and  through  the  snow,  so 
many  diverse  paths  had  crossed  and 
recrossed  each  other,  that  the  dog 
had  a  hard  task  to  retain  any  hold  on 
the  track  he  followed.  But  he  kept 
on  his  way,  though  the  cold  pierced 
him  to  the  bone,  and  the  jagged  ice 
cut  his  feet,  and  the  hunger  in  his 
body  gnawed  like  a  rat's  teeth.  He 
kept  on  his  way,  a  poor,  gaunt,  shiv- 
ering thing,  and  by  long  patience 
traced  the  steps  he  loved  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  burgh,  and  up  to  the 
steps  of  the  great  cathedral. 

"  He  is  gone  to  the  things  that  he 
loved,"  thought  Patrasche  :   he  could 


I58  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

not  understand,  but  he  was  full  of 
sorrow  and  of  pity  for  the  art-passion 
that  to  him  was  so  incomprehensible 
and  yet  so  sacred. 

The  portals  of  the  cathedral  were 
unclosed  after  the  midnight  mass. 
Some  heedlessness  in  the  custodi- 
ans, too  eager  to  go  home  and  feast 
or  sleep,  or  too  drowsy  to  know 
whether  they  turned  the  keys  aright, 
had  left  one  of  the  doors  unlocked. 
By  that  accident  the  footfalls  Pa- 
trasche  sought  had  passed  through 
into  the  building,  leaving  the  white 
marks  of  snow  upon  the  dark  stone 
floor.  By  that  slender  white  thread, 
frozen  as  it  fell,  he  was  guided 
through  the  intense  silence,  through 
the  immensity  of  the  vaulted  space 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  1 59 

—  guided  straight  to  the  gates  of 
the  chancel ;  arid,  stretched  there 
upon  the  stones,  he  found  Nello. 
He  crept  up  and  touched  the  face  of 
the  boy.  "  Didst  thou  dream  that  I 
should  be  faithless  and  forsake  thee  ? 
I, —  a  dog  ?  "  said  that  mute  caress. 

The  lad  raised  himself  with  a  low 
cry,  and  clasped  him  close.  "  Let  us 
lie  down  and  die  together,"  he  mur- 
mured. "  Men  have  no  need  of  us, 
and  we  are  all  alone." 

In  answer,  Patrasche  crept  closer 
yet,  and  laid  his  head  upon  the  young 
boy's  breast.  The  great  tears  stood 
in  his  brown,  sad  eyes  ;  not  for  him- 
self—  for  himself  he  was  happy. 

They  lay  close  together  in  the 
piercing  cold.     The  blasts  that  blew 


l6o  A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS. 

over  the  Flemish  dikes  from  the 
northern  seas  were  like  waves  of  ice, 
which  froze  every  living  thing  they 
touched.  The  interior  of  the  im- 
mense vault  of  stone  in  which  they 
were  was  even  more  bitterly  chill 
than  the  snow-covered  plains  with- 
out. Now  and  then  a  bat  moved 
in  the  shadows ;  now  and  then  a 
gleam  of  light  came  on  the  ranks  of 
carven  figures.  Under  the  Rubens 
they  lay  together  quite  still,  and 
soothed  almost  into  a  dreaming  slum- 
ber by  the  numbing  narcotic  of  the 
cold.  Together  they  dreamed  of  the 
old  glad  days  when  they  had  chased 
each  other  through  the  flowering 
grasses  of  the  summer  meadows,  or 
sat  hidden  in  the  tall  bulrushes  by 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  l6$ 

the  water's  side,  watching  the  boats 
go  seaward  in  the  sun. 

Suddenly  through  the  darkness 
a  great  white  radiance  streamed 
through  the  vastness  of  the  aisles ; 
the  moon,  that  was  at  her  height,  had 
broken  through  the  clouds  ;  the  snow 
had  ceased  to  fall ;  the  light  reflected 
from  the  snow  without  was  clear 
as  the  lights  of  dawn.  It  fell 
through  the  arches  full  upon  the  two 
pictures  above,  from  which  the  boy 
on  his  entrance  had  flung  back  the 
veil :  the  Elevation  and  the  Descent 
from  the  Cross  were  for  one  instant 
visible. 

Nello  rose  to  his  feet  and  stretched 
his  arms  to  them  ;  the  tears  of  a 
passionate  ecstasy  glistened  on  the 


164  A   DOG    OF  FLANDERS. 

paleness  of  his  face.  "  I  have  seen 
them  at  last  !  "  he  cried  aloud.  "  O 
God,  it  is  enough  !  " 

His  limbs  failed  under  him,  and 
he  sank  upon  his  knees,  still  gazing 
upward  at  the  majesty  that  he  adored. 
For  a  few  brief  moments  the  light 
illumined  the  divine  visions  that  had 
been  denied  to  him  so  long,  —  light 
clear  and  sweet  and  strong  as  though 
it  streamed  from  the  throne  of 
Heaven.  Then  suddenly  it  passed 
away  :  once  more  a  great  darkness 
covered  the  face   of   Christ. 

The  arms  of  the  boy  drew  close 
again  the  body  of  the  dog.  "  We 
shall  see  His  face — there,"  he  mur- 
mured ;  "and  He  will  not  part  us,  I 
think." 


A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS.  \6j 

On  the  morrow,  by  the  chancel  of 
the  cathedral,  the  people  of  Antwerp 
found  them  both.  They  were  both 
dead  :  the  cold  of  the  night  had  fro- 
zen into  stillness  alike  the  young  life 
and  the  old.  When  the  Christmas 
morning  broke  and  the  priests  came 
to  the  temple,  they  saw  them  lying 
thus  on  the  stones  together.  Above, 
the  veils  were  drawn  back  from  the 
great  visions  of  Rubens,  and  the 
fresh  rays  of  the  sunrise  touched 
the  thorn-crowned  head  of  the  Christ. 

As  the  day  grew  on  there  came  an 
old,  hard-featured  man  who  wept  as 
women  weep.  "  I  was  cruel  to  the 
lad,"  he  muttered,  "and  now  I  would 
have  made  amends,— yea,  to  the  half 
of  my  substance, —  and  he  should 
have  been  to  me  as  a  son." 


168  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

There  came  also,  as  the  day  grew 
■apace,  a  painter  who  had  fame  in  the 
world,  and  who  was  liberal  of  hand 
and  of  spirit.  "  I  seek  one  who 
should  have  had  the  prize  yesterday- 
had  worth  won,"  he  said  to  the  peo- 
ple ;  "  a  boy  of  rare  promise  and 
genius.  An  old  wood-cutter  on  a 
fallen  tree  at  eventide  —  that  was  all 
his  theme  ;  but  there  was  greatness 
for  the  future  in  it.  I  would  fain 
find  him,  and  take  him  with  me  and 
teach  him  Art." 

And  a  little  child  with  curling  fair 
hair,  sobbing  bitterly  as  she  clung  to 
her  father's  arm,  cried  aloud,  "O 
Nello,  come  !  We  have  all  ready  for 
thee.  The  Christ-child's  hands  are 
full  of  gifts,  and  the  old  piper  will 


A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS.  169 

play  for  us ;  and  the  mother  says 
thou  shalt  stay  by  the  hearth  and 
burn  nuts  with  us  all  the  Noel  week 
long  —  yes,  even  to  the  Feast  of  the 
Kings  !  And  Patrasche  will  be  so 
happy  !     O  Nello,  wake  and  come ! " 

But  the  young  pale  face,  turned 
upward  to  the  light  of  the  great 
Rubens  with  a  smile  upon  its  mouth, 
answered  them  all,  "It  is  too  late." 

For  the  sweet,  sonorous  bells  went 
ringing  through  the  frost,  and  the 
sunlight  shone  upon  the  plains  of 
snow,  and  the  populace  trooped  gay 
and  glad  through  the  streets,  but 
Nello  and  Patrasche  no  more  asked 
charity  at  their  hands.  All  they 
needed  now  Antwerp  gave  unbidden. 

Death   had   been   more   pitiful  to 


170  A   DOG   OF  FLANDERS. 

them  than  longer  life  would  have 
been.  It  had  taken  the  one  in  the 
loyalty  of  love,  and  the  other  in  the 
innocence  of  faith,  from  a  world 
which  for  love  has  no  recompense 
and  for  faith  no  fulfilment. 

All  their  lives  they  had  been 
together,  and  in  their  deaths  they 
were  not  divided ;  for  when  they 
were  found  the  arms  of  the  boy  were 
folded  too  closely  around  the  dog  to 
be  severed  without  violence,  and  the 
people  of  their  little  village,  contrite 
and  ashamed,  implored  a  special 
grace  for  them,  and,  making  them 
one  grave,  laid  them  to  rest  there 
side   by  side — forever! 


' 


